


The Kryptonian Identity

by WindowRaindrops



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Jason Bourne, Everyone good on this show needs a GODDAMN HUG, F/F, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Violence, this may or may not be an excuse to write Kara being a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindowRaindrops/pseuds/WindowRaindrops
Summary: A girl falls from the sky with no recollection of her memories. In the search for her past, she uncovers a deep conspiracy involving a covert government operation that will stop at nothing to silence the truth.An Alternate Universe fic based on the Bourne trilogy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary states, this is heavily based on the Bourne movies (but only the original three). If you haven't watched them yet, I strongly recommend it; They're some of the best action movies ever made.

            It’s funny how someone’s life can change in an instant. In one single moment that steers their course into uncharted territory. You might not realize that such an event can be so momentous while it’s happening. You get caught in the whirlwind; too confused and disoriented to think anything else than _stay here. Focus on the now._

            So, you do just that; it’s the most you can do anyways. Taking it one scene at a time, one day at a time, one minute at a time. You don’t know where this new path will take you. For now, you’re just content to stay where you are and let the currents do their thing. Eventually, you start to fall into a routine. The path is now familiar. The storm is comforting. Then, the waves grow too high for the ship to handle and the creaking and splintering of the wooden body of the ship becomes too deafening to ignore. It is only when the ship is violently ripped out from under your feet, you truly grasp how much your life has changed.

            In the case of one Alexandra Danvers, her moment occurs on a stormy Wednesday night. More specifically, it occurs in the form of a girl with golden locks who plummeted from the sky.

            She sits on her backyard porch, legs swinging as she watches the storm unfold. She leans back with one hand clutching a beer bottle and the other planted by her side for balance. In the distance, flashes of lighting dominate the sky, allowing her to steal glimpses of the choppy waters that lay ahead. The wind chimes are singing at an erratic pace.

            Alex takes a swig of her beer, relishing the cold sensation. She lets her mind go blank and just merely listens to the howling of the storm and the thunderous chorus of the sky as an appreciative observer. In the time between the lightening strikes, she manages to finish her beer and sets it down to her side, intending to pick it up when she retires for the night.

            A brilliant flash. Then after a few beats, a ground shaking boom. The redhead catches a glimpse of her flailing boat tied to the dock, helpless against the constant onslaught of the vicious waves. If the rest of the storm season is anything like this then she might have to reinvest in some stronger rope, lest the boat drift off into the unforgiving sea without its captain. Alex didn’t imagine herself, when she started college, to be here back in Midvale, fishing and boating everyday when the weather allowed her to do so. But after her undergraduate degree, couple of rather unsuccessful relationships, and medical school, she didn’t have a clue on what to pursue. The logical next step for many would be residency or internship at a local hospital, but for Alex, it just didn’t feel right. Even though she quite enjoyed her classes in medical school, she wasn’t sure that becoming a doctor was the best choice of action for her. She couldn’t place it then and she certainly can’t place it now, but there was something about the profession that made her wary, despite the fact that her mother is a doctor.

            So here she is, empty beer bottles, warm days out on the boat, and helping her mother at the hospital when she needed the extra hands. It isn’t the life she had originally envisioned for herself, but for now, she’s content.

            The rain comes down harshly, and Alex can feel the sting of the occasional raindrop that catches her skin. Her shoulder length auburn hair whips across her face. She tries to push it aside, but to avail. After a few tries, she gives up, resting both of her hands in her lap.

            Another flash. Alex is staring mindlessly into the sea when she sees it: a projectile plummeting from the heavens. It’s only a glimpse, but she could vaguely make out the silhouette of _something_ falling towards the icy waters below. And what ever it is, it is falling fast. A blinding lightening strike illuminates the skies once again, just long enough for Alex to catch the projectile making impact with the water with an enormous splash.

            She leans in, trying to get a better view. She can’t find it for a few seconds, due to the limited lighting that only occurs briefly.

_There. Is that…? Oh fuck, is that a person?_

            Immediately, she springs into action, grabbing a poncho that was resting on the deck chair before rushing out towards the dock.

            The rain droplets prick her skin, causing her to shield her face with her arm. She stumbles a little because of the sharp decline in elevation, but she manages to make her way down to the dock intact.

            Alex climbs in and fumbles with the rope tethering the boat. Her hands don’t work as well as they normally do given the freezing conditions. Any colder, and the rain might turn into ice crystals. Once the boat is free of any restraints, Alex turns the key in the ignition, but the engine only splutters. She gives it another try, and she is met with several whines and coughs from the engine.

            “Work, you old piece of shit,” she commands, turning the key once again. Miraculously, the engine springs to life after much complaint. Alex wipes off the water from her face and looks out to the ominous seas for the person she had seen. The weather isn’t helping, as the light isn’t nearly enough to guide her to her target and the waves are as disorienting as ever. Nevertheless, she sets off into the darkness.

            She trains her eye ahead, looking for the figure that seemingly dropped out of the sky. She squints, focusing, waiting, watching. Once in a while, she has to grab on to the side of the boat just to keep herself afloat and out of the water. If she doesn’t find whoever she’s looking for soon, she very well could join them in the icy waters. The ship has served her well thus far, but it is getting up there in years. There’s no telling if it could hold out for much longer and endure any more of the punishing waves.

            “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Alex mumbles, anxious to get back to solid ground. “Where the hell are you?”

            A couple of seconds later and she is seriously starting to doubt if she had seen anybody at all. She always believed herself as someone who could hold her liquor, but things could start to get a bit hazy after her fourth bottle. Had she just imagined it? She’s out in the middle of a thunderstorm, for crying out loud. It’s entirely within the realm of possibility that she just mistook something entirely different as a human and rushed out here for no reason. She is briefly contemplating heading back to shore when she sees it.

_Just up ahead._

            The body is about fifty yards to her right, unmoving and completely at the mercy of the waves. She carefully maneuvers the boat just near the body, but not too close to risk a collision. She drops the anchor and put the boat in reverse. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best she can do in these conditions to keep still.

            Looking around the boat, Alex searches for a tool to help her pull the body towards the boat. She curses herself for not planning ahead and acting recklessly. In a moment of clarity, she remembers the fishing net with an extendable rod that she had bought the day before.

            It’s hard work, and her dexterity is challenged by having to pull a full adult body with a lengthy, flexible aluminum rod. After minutes of effort, she manages to get the body in a position where she can reach down and pull it up by hand. She is surprised by how heavy the body is. It might be due to the fact their clothes had soaked up water, but as far as Alex can tell, the vague outline of the body shouldn’t warrant such a hefty load.

            “Jesus, what the hell did you eat for breakfast?” She grumbles, grunting from the straining muscles.

            Once the body is dragged onto the boat safely, Alex gets a clear glimpse of the face that belongs to the mysterious body. It’s a _girl_. Not a woman. But an actual girl. She can’t have been more than 22 years old. Recovering from her initial shock, she checks for a pulse.

            _Faint. But still there._

            Alex checks over the rest of the body to make sure that the girl’s bones are at least underneath the skin. It’s hard to be sure, since she is wearing some kind of a tight full body swimsuit, but it’ll do for now. She hoists the anchor back up and speeds towards the shore, eager to get out of this godforsaken storm as fast as possible.

            Once the boat is tied down again, Alex rushes towards the house, half carrying and dragging the girl over to her house. She slams open the door and clears the dining room table, pushing aside anything that occupied the space. She somehow manages to lift the girl up to the table all by herself even in her current exhausted state.

            “Mom? I need some help!” She yells, hoping she conveyed the urgency of the situation. Her mother appears a few seconds later, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she descends the stairs.

            “Alex, what’s wrong? Who is that on the dining room table?” She rushes over to her daughter’s side.

            “I don’t know, but I fished her out of the ocean after I saw her fall from the sky.”

            “Fall from the sky?” She asks incredulously. “Honey, no one can survive that.”

            “Well, she did,” Alex defended, gesturing to the still body. “Check her pulse.” Her mother’s eyebrows furrow in concern.

            “If she did fall from that great of a height, then she is very lucky to be alive. I don’t know how she is breathing right now, but I guess miracles do happen sometimes. Alex, grab some scissors and help me get her suit off.” She obliges and hands a pair to her mother when she notices distinct holes and burn marks on the suit.

            “Are those bullet holes?”

            “I think so. We should act fast before she gets an infection from the open wounds.” The two Danvers women work in silence and with deliberation, only speaking when they need certain tools. After the suit is peeled away, they can see the multiple rounds embedded in her skin. The girl is riddled with bullets, some lodged in her arm, her leg, her stomach, and her back. The suit must have been made out of Kevlar or some similar material as the bullets didn’t have enough force to push straight through. _Why would someone as young as you have bullet wounds?_

            When it’s all said and done, they manage to extract all eight bullets from the girl’s body. They suture all open wounds and clean any blood that spilled on to her skin. Alex examines the girl once again, noting how toned and muscular she is despite her relatively thin frame. There are multiple scars, some raking over her entire body. They are faded and distant, but still maintain their rope like feature. She is drawn to a particular scar on her hip. It seems more recent than the others, fresh and red. It’s barely half an inch in length. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, except that it’s protruding far too much for it to be just a natural scar. She grabs a scalpel and cuts in. She pulls out a metal capsule.

            “What is that?” Her mother asks.

            “I don’t know. It’s embedded into her hip, though.” She stiches the girl back up and places the capsule on a cloth, wiping away the blood. Alex turns towards her mother. “What should we do with her?”

            “Well, I’d like to get her in for some scans first thing in the morning, and check for any signs of internal damage. She’s stable now, but considering her fall and wounds, it’d be good to make sure.”

            “Should I get the guest bedroom ready?”

            With a jolt, the girl on the table suddenly sits up, gasping for breath. She coughs in between breaths, and her eyes are wide in fear and confusion. Alex sets a hand on her shoulder.

            “Hey, take it easy. Deep breaths. You’re safe now, can you understand me?” The girl nods, tears involuntarily falling out the corners of her eyes. Alex looks the girl in the eyes and holds her steady. Her breathing begins to even out, feeling more comfortable by each passing second. “We found you in the ocean and you had some injuries, but we patched you up. Do you remember how you ended up in the ocean?” She speaks slowly, careful to not overwhelm the girl anymore than she already is.

            The girl shakes her head vigorously. More tears threaten to spill out.

            “Hey, hey. It’s okay, we can come back to that. My name is Alex Danvers. Can you tell me your name?”

            The girl’s voice is hoarse and shaky.

            “I, I don’t know. I don’t remember.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, after hearing about what transpired at Comic Con, I didn't think I could muster up the motivation to write for awhile. But for reasons I will explain in the notes at the end of the chapter I decided to keep writing. I can't emphasize enough how much I enjoy Supercorp, and while I understand and agree with some fans' reasoning, it'll be sad to see a portion of the fans leave the fandom.
> 
> So without further ado, here is chapter 2. Make sure to stick around for the end of chapter notes. Thank you all. -WR

            Alex walks into the guest bedroom, with a glass of water in her hands. The girl is seated at the edge of the bed, wearing an old college hoodie and sweatpants. They are a bit long for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her golden hair is no longer filled with knots thanks to a hot shower she took. There’s a faint vibration in her hands as she tries to calm herself after the initial shock.

            “Here’s a glass of water.” The girl graciously accepts the offering. When her fingers close around the cup, the glass shatters in her hands. Its contents spill on the floor.

            “Oh god. I’m, I’m so sorry.” She stands and frantically searches the room. “I’ll get a towel or something—“ The redhead lays a hand on the girl’s shoulder, leading her back on the bed.

            “No, stay here. I got it.” Alex reassures her. She looks over her guest’s hands, forehead creased in worry. “Are your hands okay? No cuts or anything?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Alex returns with a towel and a broom. The girl insists that she help clean up the mess, but she refuses the help. When the mess is cleaned up, she comes back with another cup of water. This time, the cup is plastic. The girl is extra careful to not break this one, even if she couldn’t.

            Alex takes a seat right besides the girl.

            “So…” She starts. “Do you remember anything? Any thing at all?”

            “No. I can’t—I can’t remember who I am, or where I was born, or who my parents are, or how I ended up in the water, or, or,” She stammers. Her eyes were close to spilling tears again. Alex reaches out and wraps her in a tight hug. The girl lets out a sob, which leads Alex to rub circles on her back for comfort.

            “It’ll come back. Take as much time you need.”

            The girl’s trembling fingers grip the back of Alex’s shirt, and she can feel some strands stretching and breaking off. When they part, the tears have mostly subsided except for some sniffles here and there. They sit in silence comfortably, just content to have each other’s presence. Alex then remembers the odd capsule that she had found earlier embedded in the girl’s hip and digs it out of her pocket.

            “I almost forgot.” Alex holds it out in front of her and the girl eyes it curiously. “I found this under your skin while I was patching you up.” The girl takes the capsule and rolls it between her fingers, inspecting it carefully.

            “Under my skin?”

            “Yeah, it was implanted in you or something.” Then, without warning, the capsule begins to emit laser powered light. Projected on to the wall, it reads: NATIONAL CITY BANK 000-7-17-12-0-14-26.

            “That must be a bank account number.” Alex notes, eyes fixated on the wall. “Why would that be in your hip?” She wonders aloud, knowing that even if the girl knows, she most likely doesn’t remember. They are both taken out of their thoughts when the girl’s stomach growls like a lawn mower. Alex lets out a laugh, her nose crinkling. The girl can only stare at her feet in embarrassment.

            “Hungry?” She nods. “Come on, I’ll make you some pancakes.” Her eyes light up at the mention of food.

* * *

 

            The next day, Alex drives for three hours to National City with the girl in the passenger’s seat. They leave later in the morning after Eliza runs some MRI and CT scans, off the record of course. She had no identification and no health insurance to speak of, and given the situation, it seemed imperative that the girl had some scans done just to be sure of her health. Surely, two quick scans at dawn wouldn’t hurt anybody.

            It turns out, the girl’s in perfect health.

            “Incredible,” Eliza breathes out; her eyes trained on the monitors, the CT scan on one screen and the MRI on the other. “She fell from the sky and nothing. She’s practically the healthiest twenty-something I’ve ever seen in my life. Well, except for the bullet wounds.”

            They leave for National City soon after. Right after the girl inhales another batch of pancakes because she is starving again and, “oh my god, Alex, you make the best pancakes.”

            “Do you remember past pancakes you’ve had?”

            “Um…no.” She pauses mid bite with a forkful in hand. “But I’m like 99% positive that these are the best I’ve eaten even if I could remember.” Alex pours another batch on to the frying pan, a smirk on her face.

            After her second breakfast, the girl is eager to climb into Alex’s beat up Subaru. She nods her head to the beat of the music that plays from the radio and even picks up on the lyrics to some of the songs that repeat. Alex had never noticed how often radio stations replay popular songs until she hears the girl belting out song after song after the first hour. She seems to be a big fan of _I Feel It Coming_ , even doing a little dance when the chorus hits. Normally, Alex would be annoyed by the distractions while she’s driving, but for some reason, she can’t help but smile and occasionally sing along with her.

            Alex pulls into the parking lot across the street from National City Bank. Once she puts the car in park, she turns towards the girl.

            “Okay, the bank is just across the street from us. Do you want me to come with or do you want to go alone?”

            “I think I’ll go alone. Thanks for the offer, though.”

            “No problem, kid. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

            It’s half past noon when the girl towards the bank. The street is fairly busy with pedestrians and drivers alike rushing for their lunch breaks.

            It’s loud. Louder than she expected.

            The incessant honking from some of the cars, businessmen and women talking frantically into their phones, trying to schedule a last minute meeting or meet a project deadline. Dozens, if not hundreds, of pairs of shoes clicking in their own respective rhythms. The distant wail of sirens and screeching of tires blocks away. Leaves bristling in the light summer breeze.

            It’s all too much.

            She can’t focus on one particular sound. Her brain is moving too fast to register each individual sound separately. They’re all distinct, and the girl can recognize them as such, but at this point, they all just melding into a constant drone. Her world spins a turn, and her axis tilts ever so slightly. She looks back at the car and sees Alex frowning, probably debating if she should go help her or not. The girl flashes a bright smile and gives her a thumbs up. She faces the street once again and takes a deep breath. _Just block it out. You’ll be indoors in a few seconds._

            She waits for the light to turn and starts walking, each step more confident than the last. Within a couple of seconds, she’s at the doors of the bank. She steps inside, letting the sense of overwhelming relief wash over her as the cool air hits her face.

            The bank lobby is expansive, with marble flooring and massive Doric columns spaced throughout. Before she understands what’s she’s doing, the girl makes note of the seven security guards that are on duty: two by the glass automatic doors next to the bank tellers, two by the entrance which she just passed through, one on each side of the stairs in the northeast corner of the lobby, and one stationed right outside the elevator. Each of them is equipped with a standard issue walkie-talkie and Smith and Wesson M&P 9s. There are four tellers window currently open, but the fifth window will soon reopen once the teller who left glazed donut crumbs on his desk finishes washing his hands in the men’s bathroom. Once she is situated at the center of the lobby, it’ll take her approximately five seconds to reach the nearest exit and an extra seven seconds if she needs to disarm a guard. However, from the center of the lobby, the nearest guard, with his build and presumed weight will be running about 4.3 miles per hour slower than her maximum speed that she can reach in four strides from a dead stop. Accounting for the extra 0.7 seconds that the security guard needs to assess and react to the situation, there is a good chance that she could make it out untouched, if she needed to. But why would she? This is just an ordinary stop at a bank right? _And how the heck did she just think of all that? And why?_

            Surprisingly, there are no lines at this time of day. So, she heads over to the near teller window without much trouble.

            “Welcome to National City Bank. How can I help you?”

            “Uh yes. I have an account here? I’d like to access it.”

            “Of course. And what is the account number?”

            “0007171201426.” She doesn’t miss a beat.

            “Thank you, right this way, ma’am.” The teller stands and leads her through the automatic glass doors. The girl nods nervously at the guards nearby in acknowledgement. They reach an elevator, and they travel up to the third floor. She steps out of the elevator and takes a few more steps but is stopped by a balding man in a grey suit. The girl looks to him in confusion. The man gestures to a screen to his left.

            “Your hand, please.”

            “Oh, right. Of course.” She places her hand on the screen and the device scans her fingertips and palm for prints. After what seems like an eternity, the security system lets her through, having identified her as a registered client of the bank.

            She is then led to a small, almost cramped space concealed by a red certain. A few moments later, and the teller hands her a metal case, wordlessly. And she walks away, leaving the girl to herself. She closes the curtain, yanking it twice more for assurance of her privacy. Her hands hover above the case, unsure of what she’ll find in there. _Well, time to find out._

            She unlocks the latches and the top cover flips open, revealing an assortment of items: several daily use contact lenses, a small flashlight, an American Express Centurion card, a watch which seems to have run out of battery, a couple of pens, and most importantly, a passport. An _American_ passport.

            “Okay, so I am American. That’s nice to know.” She mutters under her breath. She scans through the pages, looking for her personal information. When she reaches the page, she is faced with a headshot of herself staring back with a blank expression.

_Surname: Bourne_

_Given names: Kara_

           She takes a moment to sit down, processing the information she just received. _My name is Kara. That’s a start._ There’s a pink slip of paper peeking out on the edges of the passport, stashed in one of the later pages. It’s an identification paper, written in French.

_Domicile: 104 Rue du Jardin 75005 Paris_

           “And I live in Paris?” She wonders aloud, folding the paper back up and placing both the passport and identification paper back in the case. As her fingers touch the felt lining inside, she notices that there is another compartment below. The tray lifts easily enough and the contents inside make her pause. Her breath catches in her throat.

           Underneath the tray, she finds several passports of different nationalities, stacks of bills in euros, pesos, dollars, francs, yen, and pounds, and on top of it all, a pistol. A Sig Sauer P226, by the looks of it. Kara searches through the passports to realize that they’re all hers with the same picture as the one in her American passport but with different names. In addition to Kara Bourne, she is also a Sofia Guarneri from Italy, a Valentina Torres from Argentina, and an Alisa Fedorov from Russia, among others. There is even another placeholder card for another American passport that belongs to a Catherine Kane. She looks around, unsure if she had dropped it, but the passport belonging to Catherine Kane is nowhere to be found.

_Why do I have all of these passports? And a gun? And these stacks of bills… Just who the hell am I?_

            She makes a snap decision and grabs the complimentary bag from under the table. She stuffs the passports in along with the cash. There isn’t much organization as she just mainly dumps all of her belongings into the red bag. The last thing she packs is the gun.

            With everything accounted for, she slings the bag over her shoulder and heads out, climbing back into the elevator. As the doors close, she notices one of the attendants staring at her intensely. His gaze is unwavering, and it sends chills down Kara’s spine. In the split second before the doors close for good, she barely catches the man reach for his earpiece. With the noise of the elevator, she doesn’t pick up on what he says.

            “Asset located at National City Bank. Treadstone priority one. Visual confirmation on Kara Bourne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Including the comments from some of the cast members of Supergirl I found their Comic Con presentation to be incredibly disappointing. I have to admit, it was very upsetting, knowing the impact those comments could have on LGBT folks even though I only consider myself as a mere ally. It was disheartening to say the least. So much so that I considered quitting writing fics all together. But then I remembered why I write these stories. I write them for myself. And if at the end of the day, if I'm proud of my work and enjoying myself, then I shouldn't let those comment deter me from doing what I like.
> 
> On a related note, I was very underwhelmed by the season 3 trailer and noticed that it didn't seem very... Supergirl. Personally, I relate to Kara a lot, so the character as a very special place in my heart. And to see her story arc get muddled like that and steer away from what makes Kara so great didn't sit well with me. It's almost as if the writers missed out on the core of who Kara is as a character. 
> 
> So, I've decided to write a series of connected one-shots that will allow me to really explore Kara's storyline and who she is. I have a tumblr that you can submit prompts to: window-raindrops.tumblr.com 
> 
> I'm very excited for this project and hope you are too. Also, last thing (I promise!), is that I also have a Harry Potter OC fic if you're into that. Would mean a lot if you checked it out. You guys mean the world to me. Thanks for reading. -WR


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And our story truly begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been battling some medical problems and have been applying to schools, so I had to take a break. I decided to write in past tense because it's easier for me to do so. Sorry if it's jarring or confusing at all. 
> 
> The updates will be slightly more regular and frequent now and even more so come January as I recover and complete my applications. Anyways, thanks for sticking around and as always, comments and kudos are welcome! -WR

**Two months later**

 

            Alex always had been a big fan of routines. It was what drew her to medical school in the first place apart from her love of science. After awhile, you start to get used to the monotonous schedule: lectures, labs, problem sets, et cetera. But her first two months living with Kara were anything but predictable.

            The girls went on countless spur of the moment excursions dictated by Kara’s seemingly insatiable appetite. Most days, it was random. Pizza one day, burgers the next, or sticky buns at 2 AM, to name a few. However, potstickers soon became a recurring theme in the Danvers household once Kara had become obsessed with them after their first Chinese takeout day.

            During car rides, Kara would often point out dogs in neighboring cars or on the street and dote on them for the next twenty minutes, often recounting, “Alex, did you see how cute and button-y his nose was? He was so adorable! I need him, Alex! Is it weird if you just slowed down a bit so I can stare at him for a couple more minutes?” It was a far cry from her normal silent car rides Alex had grown accustomed to, but she always gave in. She couldn’t find it within herself to say no to those puppy dog eyes that Kara donned so often.

            It was never a dull day at the Danvers household ever since Kara quite literally dropped out of the sky.

            Alex shouldn’t have thought today would be any different.

            The sticky, humid summer air had given way to the soft, yet biting autumn winds. The leaves were well into their transition to warmer colors. In the sprawling backyard of the Danvers household, critters of all shapes and sizes were scurrying to stockpile whatever food they could find before the long, harsh winter.

            A little over half a mile into the sea, Alex was checking her last traps and lines. Her hands were roughly calloused now, after months of hard labor. In the first couple of weeks into her new profession (She never intended on it being her full time job, but it pays the bills, so she can’t complain), her hands were covered with raging blisters and her muscles ached with every subtle movement. But not anymore. Little by little, Alex had become accustomed to new life, mentally and physically. Her routine.

            When she was completely satisfied with her handiwork, she leaned back and stretched, arms reaching for clouds that once dotted the skies in the midsummer heat. The coming weeks would be crucial to her business. Soon winter would descend without much warning and the fish would seek residence in the ocean floor, instinctually drawn to the warmth that all living things so desire. But it was also a time when the fish were more eager to search for food. There was much work to be done.

            This morning, she had sent Kara over to Metropolis to buy stronger lines and new nets. The girl was proving herself to be great help to Alex; She was every bit as strong as her toned physique had suggested. Kara was more than eager to join Alex in her work, claiming, “it’s the least I can do.”

            “Kara, no. You fell out of the sky, for fuck’s sake! You need to rest.” She crossed her arms for emphasis.

            “I’m fine. _Eliza_ said I’m fine. Let me help.” Kara pleaded with her sparkling blue eyes. “Just think of it as my way of repaying you for all the food I’ve eaten since I came here.” _Damn her and her puppy dog pout._

            As it turns out, Kara definitely didn’t need the rest. She pulled hefty, waterlogged nets out of the sea by herself with ease. Tossed cages farther than Alex thought was humanly possible. Hauled in forty pound fish like it was nothing. More often than not, Alex just stood there dumbfounded.

            She wasn’t just brawn, however. Within a week, Kara had accurately plotted their course and pointed out the inefficiencies in the routes and methods Alex had been employing. Alex was catching more fish than she ever dreamed of and in record time. Kara was incredibly inexperienced, but with Alex’s guidance, fishing was slowly but surely becoming second nature to her. There was the occasional loose knot and missing bait and Kara often beat herself up over her mistakes, careless or otherwise. Alex always had to remind Kara that it was okay; that it wasn’t a big deal and that she’s still learning. Mistakes were expected and inevitable.

            Then Kara would respond with something concerning her “doing her part” and “being a burden” for Alex. Sometimes, Alex saw red eyes prickling with tears. She stole away her tears when she thought Alex wasn’t looking, making sure to dry them as soon as they fell. There was a time and a place. She could manage to not fall apart until nightfall.

            And after Alex had reassured Kara that she was doing a great job, the blonde threw herself back into her work with a feverish intensity and renewed vigor. Alex elected to keep quiet in those moments, better to let the fire burn and rage on. She couldn’t think of the right words to say. Or any words to say. So they went on, working in silence, each doing their part in a melodious duet, falling perfectly in line with one another.

            Alex moored the boat back into the docks with dinner plans in mind. They were running low on groceries. Alex wasn’t a light eater by any means, she’ll scarf down a large pizza on her own if she was starving, but she couldn’t even hold a candle to Kara when it came to appetite. Boy, can that girl eat! Or better yet, what can’t she eat?

            Instead of shopping and cooking for two like she expected to, Alex now cooked for four or maybe even five if Kara worked up a significant appetite on the boat during the day. In truth, Alex was getting worried if their fishing production could keep up with their expenses on food. However, all her worries dissipated when she saw Kara’s face light up with delight whenever she was presented with heaping platters.

            Setting her keys and jacket on the dining room table, Alex peered through the contents of the fridge…there wasn’t much, maybe just enough to feed both of them for tonight and tomorrow. A trip to the grocery store was in order, but for now, this would do.

            Alex grabbed some onions and tomatoes and set about prepping for their meal. A photo of the two of them smiling together, side by side, with ice creams in hand popped up on her phone. Alex hastily washed her hands, dried them off, and answered the call.

            “Hey Kara, did you pick up the lines and nets yet?” She asked, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

            “Alex,” Kara was noticeably out of breath. Her voice was scraggly yet grave. Alex furrowed her eyebrows in anticipation of what this could mean. “I think they found me.”

            The redhead leapt off the counter. “Are you okay? Are you still in Metropolis?” Alex could hear shouting and the deafening cacophony of car horns in the background. Kara was still breathing hard.

            “I’m okay. For—” Then a crash, some flurry of objects clattering on the floor. “For now.” Several pops. Those were unmistakable.

            Gunshots.

            “Listen, Alex. I don’t think I have much time. I just wanted to thank you. For everything.”

            “Kara? Stay there, okay? I’m coming to get you.” She lunged for her car keys and coat, rushing for the door while not bothering to even put her shoes on correctly.

            “No! Alex, please don’t come looking for me.” The gunshots only increased in frequency. And volume. “You need to stay safe. Just,” Kara hesitated for a beat. “Thank you. Bye, Alex.”

            And the line went dead.

 

* * *

 

**Two months earlier**

            “Gosh, Alex. There’s so much to order! How do I just pick one?” Kara asked, her face buried in the diner’s menu. Her nose was scrunched up as she focused entirely on her dinner choice. It was as if she was asked to choose her favorite child. She couldn’t possibly decide.

            “Order as much as you want, Kara.” Alex chuckled to herself. She had never seen someone agonize over food like the blonde who sat across from her. At Alex’s approval, Kara’s face brightened immensely, shooting Alex a brilliant smile. She was sure that she’d heard a squeal coming from the blonde while she reconsidered her order.

            “The roast beef sounds good…So does the burger…Can’t go wrong with pancakes either…” Alex heard Kara murmur to no one in particular. When the waitress came to take their order, the poor girl stood there wide-eyed at how much food Kara was ordering. Her pen barely kept up with Kara’s rapid-fire barrage of dishes. When she finished, the waitress looked on expectantly, waiting for the avalanche continue.

            “And that’s it!” Kara concluded with as much energy she could possibly muster.

            The waitress shot Alex an uncertain look, making sure that the redhead was okay with all the food they had ordered. More importantly, if she could pay for it. Alex nodded knowingly and handed her the menus. She then turned to Kara.

            “Hey, Kara. Do you want dessert too?”

            Yes. Always yes.

 *          *

_Darkness. It was the first thing she noticed. Her world was covered in it, barring a few dots of light. It must be the night sky, she mused. The stars are so pretty this time of year._

_A motion to her right interrupted her thoughts, shaking her out of her reverie. She squinted to make out its identity, and found the unmistakable shape of a fin._

_Not the night sky._

_But water._

_In her surprise, she gasped for air, inhaling copious amounts of water in the process. She coughed in a futile attempt to rid the water that burned her lungs with an unbearable flame. It only succeeded in letting more in._

_She thrashed about, desperately trying to cling on to whatever she could find. She wasn’t thinking, all remnants of her training abandoning her when she needed it most. Every second that passed, her lungs begged for mercy, pleading with her, but to no avail._

_The stars she saw began to dim, one by one. Her vision verged on complete darkness._

_It would be so easy…_

_She inched towards unconsciousness, sleep’s seductive voice calling out to her like a siren. She had to fight it. She had to._

_She had to for…_

_For what? For whom?_

_She didn’t know._

_Despite her best efforts, her body sank rapidly to the depths of the ocean, as if she had an anchor tied to her feet. Her hands shot out, grasping at nothing but water. She couldn’t help herself; it was so easy to fall, to let go._

_As the last star lost its light, the only thing she could she could hear was her own voice, echoing for no one to hear but herself._

_It’s not fair._

_It’s not fair._

_It’s not fair._

 

            Kara woke to the panicked sound of Alex’s voice.

            “Kara? Kara!” She was sweating profusely; evident by the way her pajamas and sheets clung to her skin. Her breathing was shallow. She was taking in air at twice the normal tempo. Without realizing it, her hands were shaking as violently as a leaf barely hanging on to the branch in the fierce winds of autumn.

            Alex’s words were muffled, hardly registering to Kara. Her own heartbeat was too loud, pounding an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. She could hear her own blood coursing through her veins. Feel the electrical pulses of her brain.

            _Too much._

            It was all too much.

            She kept her eyes clamped shut, drew her knees close to her chest, and covered her ears with her trembling hands. By pressing them against her ears, Kara stopped their shaking for the most part, except for the occasional spasm.

            “Kara? I know it’s hard, but I need you to look at me. Can you open your eyes for me, Kara?” Alex gently asked.

            She gave her host a faint nod and slowly opened her eyes, taking in the world piece by piece. Alex was seated cross-legged across from her. Her brown eyes stared intently into Kara’s cerulean.

            “Focus on me, okay?” Her voice was light yet carried all the gravitas she normally commanded. It was reassuring, in a way. “I want you to take deep breaths. In for four seconds and out for four. Can you try that?”

            Kara’s breath was ragged, spilling out in a frantic staccato.

            “That’s it, Kara. Just like that. Keep going, in and out. In and out.” Alex made an effort to demonstrate the procedure with her, keeping cadence with Kara’s speed. Over time, her breathing returned to a more regular pattern and Kara could hear— _feel_ —it all fading away. She kept her focus on Alex’s face, not risking breaking eye contact for a fear of aggravating what had just passed.

            When most of the symptoms had subsided, Alex reached out and gingerly wiped tears off of Kara’s face that she didn’t even know had fallen. Alex wrapped the younger girl in a tight hug and Kara reciprocated with the same ferocity, not daring to let go. She let the rest of her tears fall then.

            “Why can’t I remember anything?” Kara sniffled into Alex’s shirt.

            “I don’t know, kid. I don’t know.” She rubbed soothing circles on the girl’s back.

            “Oh god,” she choked out.

            “You’re going to be all right, Kara. You’re safe here. I got you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Present day**

            Lena Luthor was having a great day. Well, great for her standards. While most people would consider getting a raise or watching their favorite sports team win qualities of a great day, Lena rated her days based on how often she encountered her mother at work. And now, with her chair reclined back and her private plane due to take off any minute for Europe, she couldn’t be more pleased with how the day had played out so far. It might even be the best day she’s had in weeks.

            Her mother was insufferable anywhere, but she shined especially at work. If it could be possible, Lillian was a notch more condescending, a tad more disapproving, a bit more strict, another level of stubbornness. They had gotten into a particularly nasty fight just hours before, so Lena had taken upon herself to take a well-earned vacation to another continent. Miles and miles away from her devil of a mother.

            Oh, her mother would be furious once she finds out, but that’s a problem for another day. Right now, Lena was perfectly content with a glass of sparkling water and long nap on cushioned leather seats. Not to mention the dinner reservation that was waiting for her on the banks of the Seine river. Things, for once in her admittedly tragic life, were good.

            Lena was halfway towards dozing off, thanks to the surprisingly relaxing drone of the turbines, when she heard the commotion outside. She peered open her window and peaked out to the tarmac. A lone figure was yelling at the flight crew, waving her arms around like a madman. The crew members, bewildered, took cautious steps back, letting whoever it was carry on for their own safety. The figure disappeared from view as they climbed up the stairs and backed into the entrance.

            Lena was startled, to say the least. She jumped up on her feet and held the glass of sparkling water in one hand, primed for action. She had never taken self-defense classes before, but she desperately wished she hadn’t skipped those classes her mother had scheduled for her.

            When the figure came into view, reappearing in the aisle of the plane, facing Lena, she nearly dropped her weapon of choice.

            It was a blonde girl, not much older than she is, with disheveled hair and clothes to match. Her jacket had holes and rips in various places. She grasped her own right shoulder with her left hand and held a pistol trained on Lena with her right. Her hand wavered slightly, but her steel gaze pierced.

            “Tell your pilot that we’re leaving now.” She barked, her teeth clenched in pain.

            Lena sighed.

She knew this day was too good to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are also reading my other (Harry Potter) fic, there will be another update in the next two weeks. Come yell and freak out with me on tumblr window-raindrops


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena arrive in Paris. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AHEAD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry this is a bit late, but it's a longer chapter if that makes up for it. A quick note about this chapter: anytime a person's speech is in italics, it means that the person is speaking a foreign language (in this case, French). Hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are welcome! Tell me what you think!

“Tell your pilot that we’re leaving now.”

Lena, admittedly, was still unnerved by the situation. She was defenseless. Well, apart from her glass of sparkling water, but she sure that it would do her no good, unless she could throw it at the girl’s head fast and hard enough to knock her out. And before she shot her, of course.

Despite her frazzled mind and frantic heartbeat, she ran through her options and imagined the outcomes. She might not know a single thing about defending herself, but Lena was still a Luthor, whether she liked it or not, and that meant that she was cunning. To almost a ruthless degree. More cunning, perhaps, then even her mother and brother.

She smiled as a solution dawned on her.

Favoring her right leg ever so slightly, Lena crossed her arms and looked the intruder square in the face.

“And if I don’t?” Lena challenged, eyebrow raised.

The girl looked tired. Haggard, even. “I think it’s clear what’s at stake here.” She answered back, waiving the gun around. Her strained speech suggested that she needed some sort of medical attention. Maybe Lena could use that to her advantage. She took a step forward.

“Obviously, but you, surprisingly, don’t have many options,” Lena begun and the gun trained on her face acquired a new vigor and steadiness. She hesitated for a beat. Then took another step.

“Stop moving!” The girl pulled the hammer back, but Lena persisted and took another.

“You can’t fire a warning shot. It would depressurize the cabin once we are up in the air.” Then another. She could see the girl’s features more clearly now. A faint trace of freckles just below her eyes. A faded scar off the left side of her mouth. Striking, piercing blue eyes.

“You can’t shoot me, either. The plane won’t take off without my say so. The crew have their instructions.” Her face was dangerously close to the barrel of the gun, mere inches away.

“And you’re clearly running from something or someone. Not to mention you need medical attention.” The blonde’s gaze flickered to her clutched shoulder. Lena slowly set the glass down and reached up with her right hand, grasping the gun. Then, she put the cool barrel against her forehead and held it there.

“So, you couldn’t kill me if you wanted to. What’s it going to be?” She smirked. Game, set, match.

The girl let out an exasperated sigh and lowered her arm, prying the gun away from Lena’s fingers. There was an audible click indicating that the safety was on once more. Her arm hung limp, the tension ebbing out from her shoulders. The backpack slung over her good shoulder slipped out onto the floor. Worry was etched in her furrowed brows. Lena chuckled.

“Relax, have a seat. We’ll leave in a minute.” She gestured to one of the many leather-bound seats that the jet housed.

Kara stood there, slack-jawed. “Wait. You’re letting me stay?”

“Why, did you want to leave?.” Lena raised her eyebrow in amusement.

“No, no, no!” Kara defended, waving her hands frantically. “I didn’t expect you to actually say yes.”

“Well, I don’t think I can persuade you to get out. So here we are.”

Kara pocketed her pistol, wincing as her shoulder stretched. “Are, are you sure?”

Lena let out a soft laugh. “You are awfully hesitant for someone who barged in here and threatened me at gunpoint. Yes, I’m sure. Sit down, I’ll get a first aid kit for your shoulder.”

With a sigh, Kara plopped down on the cream leather seats. The cushion was impossibly soft; it felt she was sinking deeper and deeper into the seat with each passing second and she let her eyes close just for a moment. Just for a few seconds….

“Hey, here’s the first aid kit.” She snapped her eyes open as a case landed in her lap with a thud. Kara eyed the heiress incredulously. “What? Do it yourself, I’m not going to fix your damn shoulder.”

Kara wordlessly trudged her way to the facilities, carrying the kit in her right hand. The bathroom alone was more extravagant than anything Kara (and by extension Alex) had experienced in her life. In all fairness, Kara could only recall her life in Midvale, but that was beside the point. With its solid gold handles, ostentatious toilet seat designed more for visuals than comfort and practical use, and an unnecessary assortment of hand soaps of vague, unheard of fragrances, she felt out of place immediately. It had only been a few hours, but she was desperately missing the dingy boat, the quaint house by the sea, and most of all, Alex. Alex would know what to do. She always did.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she got to work, quickly discarding her tattered jacket onto the marble flooring, carefully lifting her shirt up, and pulling her arm out of her shirt as cautiously as possible to prevent further pain. The damage wasn’t as bad as she expected. A majority of the bleeding had stopped, only a few trickles of blood seeping out from the wound. It was a relatively deep gash: not deep enough to be debilitating, but deep enough to require stitches. She was thankful the bullet had merely grazed her shoulder. An inch to the right, and her bones could have definitely shattered. Or worse, the bullet could have gone clean through and she could have bled out in minutes.

Kara opened the case, revealing its contents. It was extremely well-equipped. _Perks of taking a private jet hostage_ , she guessed. She grabbed the bottle of alcohol and pried the lid open with one hand. The other gripped the sink. Kara grit her teeth and clenched her jaw in anticipation. She poured the solution on her wound and she couldn’t help but release a yelp and a whimper. It burned with a feverish intensity and caused her bones to ache as well, making it seem as if they were indeed broken after all. Her grip on the porcelain sink tightened, and as a result, it cracked. She backed away in surprise and in horror at her own strength.

She inched towards the sink once more, eyeing the sink cautiously. The wound was throbbing, pulsing in sync with her erratic heartbeat. She closed the lid on the bottle of alcohol and sought out the equipment necessary for the suture. Kara was surprised to see that her hands weren’t shaking. She had never performed any sort of medical procedure on anyone. Granted, the only other people in her life were Alex and Eliza, but still. Anytime Kara required any sort of medical attention Alex had insisted that she would take care of it and that Kara should just leave it to her because “I’m practically a doctor, Kara. Relax.”

After an uncertain first run through the wound, the rest of the sutures filed in swimmingly. At a certain point, she went on automatic; it almost felt like second nature. She had watched Alex do it several times, but actually performing it herself was vastly different. Yet, Kara managed to do so without a hitch.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a thread that was just out of reach. The strand dangling in the air, dancing through her fingers, slipping just past their grasp when they tried to close. She chose to ignore it for now.

When Kara poked her head out from the bathroom, she saw Lena lounging in her chair with a glass of wine in one hand and a book on genetic sequencing in the other. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kara stalked out and gladly took her place across from Lena’s. As soon as she sat down, the jet lurched into motion, causing her to jump slightly.

“First time in a plane?” Lena asked, her eyes didn’t leave her book, yet her eyebrow was raised in amusement.

“I, uh. I think so.”

“You think so? It’s a yes or no question, you either have or you haven’t.” Lena set the book down on the counter near her seat and gave Kara her full attention.

“Then, yes. It’s my first time on a plane. As far as I can remember anyway.” She mumbled her way through the last sentence. The jet now reached the velocity it needed to fly and it did so without much effort. They were gliding in no time, far above the clouds, miles away from Kara’s mysterious attackers. Kara could feel the tension leave her shoulders with each second that passed.

“You don’t remember if you’ve ever flown before?” Kara nodded. “Who are you running from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why are they chasing you?”

“I don’t know.”

Lena scoffed. “People shot at you, and you don’t even know who they are or why they’re doing it?”

“No. I,” she started but paused, unsure of where to take this conversation or how to approach it. “I don’t really remember anything.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“No, I can’t remember anything prior to three months ago.”

“I hope you can at least remember your name,” Lena chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

“Kara.” She blurted. “My name is Kara.”            

“Well, nice to meet you Kara. My name is Lena.”

“Lena,” Kara said, testing the name out on her mouth. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Lena asked, leaning forward in her seat. A half grin was plastered on her face. “You got the plane, got your hostage.” She gestured to herself. “Now what?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m kind of just making it up as I go.”

“Would you at least like to know where we’re headed?”

“Yes.” Kara laughed, realizing her own folly. “Yeah that would be good information to know.”

“Paris.” Kara shifted in her seat. Lena noticed. “Why? Not a big fan of France?”

Kara bit her lip as she considered spilling her guts to this complete stranger that she had only met about an hour ago. At gunpoint as her “hostage,” nonetheless. _Screw it, I’ve got nothing to lose at this point._ She started rummaging through the backpack she had carried with her.

“I told you I don’t remember anything, but I managed to track down a bank account under my name. And when I accessed it, I found these,” Kara held an assortment of passports for Lena to see, like a magician with a deck of cards. “And all of these have my face on them but with different names. See? Look.” She flipped through the pages and shoved the passports in Lena’s face once she reached her photo and vital information. “Who has that many passports, right? Are they fake? Are they real? Who knows? And not only that, I also found these:” Kara started to lay out stacks of bills from all sorts of different countries. Euros, pounds, dollars, pesos, yuans, wons, rubies. The whole deal. “Not to mention the gun.” She waved it in the air before holstering it once more. “And contact lenses of different colors. Who the heck has all these things in their safety deposit box? But the most important thing is this:” She held the pink identification paper in her fingers. “I live in Paris.”

Lena took the paper to inspect it for herself. “And the key to figuring out who the hell you are—or used to be—is probably at this address.” Kara nodded. “Okay, you sold me.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll bite, seems interesting enough. I want to tag along, see how this thing plays out.”

“Lena, this isn’t a game—I got shot on the way here.”

“All the more reason for me to tag along. I’m sure a valuable hostage like myself will do wonders for your chances of survival.” Lena now sported a full grin. Oh, this was going to be way more fun than what she had in mind.

* * *

“So you’re telling me we had a confirmed visual on Bourne, managed to shoot at her, and still lost track of her?”

“Yes sir.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“We did see her get into an unmarked jet, sir.”

“To where?”

“Paris. We were able to pull out this photo of her and an unidentified female exiting the plane.”

“That’s the clearest shot you have?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“I want every police division in Paris looking for Bourne and the girl she’s with. Descriptions, BOLOs, warrants, whatever. We know where she is; she’s probably going to head towards the apartment. Send the asset. Bourne doesn’t leave the city alive, do you hear me?”

* * *

 “How do you not have a key to your own apartment?” Lena scoffed, blowing hot air into her frigid hands. She should have brought a warmer coat.

“It wasn’t in the safety deposit box,” Kara defended. She could hear Lena’s constant fidgeting. Her patience was starting to wear thin. Ignoring her, Kara looked through the list of buttons laid out next to the locked gate. At the very top, she saw her own name: _Bourne._ Without much thought, she pressed the button and the intercom buzzed quite loudly. There was no response. She pressed it again, harder this time.

“I guess you’re not home,” Lena commented. Spurred on by Lena, Kara shook the handle on the gate. Immediately, a short middle-aged woman came rushing to the door. She greeted Kara with a wide smile and opened the door with great enthusiasm. The concierge of the building, perhaps.

“ _Mademoiselle Bourne, I was wondering where you were; I haven’t seen you.”_ She spoke in rapid fire French.

Without missing a beat, Kara replied, “ _Well, here I am_.” She gives her a bright smile. “ _I think I lost my key._ ” Lena stood off to the side, wide-eyed at Kara’s sudden linguistic abilities.

The concierge waved her off. “ _Oh, that’s no matter, Mademoiselle Bourne. We can get you a spare key made in no time. Come in! Come in!”_ She ushered the two inside. “ _You and your friend must have been freezing out there!”_

* * *

Lena let out a low whistle as they walked through the halls of Kara’s penthouse apartment. “Pretty nice place you got here.”

Kara, walking alongside her, ran her fingers through the intricate gold designs and decorations that line the walls. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They entered a study with full bookcases stretching towards the ceiling, a simple desk with a landline, a cozy fireplace littered with comfy chairs and blankets that surrounded a coffee table. Kara set her backpack down on the desk and took the time to examine whatever was left behind by, presumably, her past self. Not much, just some pens and a few documents. She grabbed the first and skimmed through its contents. She repeated the process with the rest of the documents.

She read through spreadsheets of different types of boats and their price points, the specs of different ships, and the arrival times of various imports at major harbors in Europe. Turning around, she leaned closer to the bookcase and saw that they too, were marine related.

“I think I was in the shipping business.” Kara said, chewing her lip as she thought out loud. When there was no response from Lena, she looked up and saw that the girl was nowhere to be seen.

“You really need to stock up on your drinks. It’s barren.” Lena called out, probably from the kitchen.

“Oh sure. Just help yourself. It’s not like it’s not my apartment or anything.” Kara mumbled to herself. Next, she trained her attention on the landline. Turning the phone over she pressed redial and waited for a response. The phone rang twice before someone answered.

“ _Bonjour Hotel Regina. How may I help you?”_

“Uh, yeah. Hello?” Kara blurted, quickly bringing the phone up to her face and trapping it between her ear and shoulder. She grabbed a notepad she had found next to the documents and uncapped a pen.

“Yes, ma’am, Hotel Regina, Paris. How may I direct your call?”

“Yeah, you’re in Paris?” She scribbled down _Hotel Regina, Paris. –Last dialed number._

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m looking for a guest there: Kara Bourne.”

“One moment, please.”

“Thank you.” Classical music flooded her ear as she was put on hold. Kara stood up, paced the room, chewing on the cap of the pen. The music abruptly stopped and was interrupted by the operator’s voice.

“I’m afraid I have no one by that name registered.”

Kara paused for a beat. She halted a sigh from escaping her lips, _another dead end._

“Okay, thank you.” She lowered the phone to end the conversation when an idea struck her. “Wait! No, no, no. Are you there? Hello?” Holding the phone between her ear and shoulder again, Kara hurried towards the desk and rummaged through her backpack.

“Ma’am?”

“Yeah, can you check another name for me, please?” She riffled through the Italian passport, the Russian passport, and stacks of bills. “Here, bear with me for a second. Got it, Catherine Kane. Kane with a K.”

“One moment, ma’am.” This time, she was put on hold for no longer than a few seconds. A male voice, who she assumed was the manager, picked up.

“You’re calling about Mademoiselle Kane? Catherine Kane?” He inquired, seeking confirmation.

“That’s right.” Kara began pacing the room again, pausing to stare out at the sprawling metropolis below.

“You are a friend of hers?”

“Uh, uh-huh. Yup.” She bit her lip once more.

“I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you ma’am. I’m terribly sorry to tell you this, but Mademoiselle Kane has passed away almost three months ago.” Kara’s stomach dropped. _Three months ago? Dead? Why would she be dead? Who keeps wanting to kill me?_

The manager continued. “There was an accident. On the motorway. Apparently, she was killed instantly. I’m terribly sorry to be the one to tell you this. When they came for his things it was made known for us, you see?”

“Who, who came?” Her hands were laced with sweat, and her grip on the phone was tightening.

“Her brother.”

“Did her brother leave a number or a way to get in touch with him?”

“I think not?” He sounded unsure of himself. “No, I’m sorry—”

Kara ended the call.

_Oh god, I’m dead. No, wait. Not dead, but other me is dead. Which is still me. Me from three months ago is dead. But not really. I’m not dead. But someone wants me dead. Someone or some group or some…whatever is chasing me and has been for the last three months. And my brother? Do I even have a brother? Why hasn’t he looked for me then? Or he has and maybe just hasn’t gotten far enough._

“Your liquor cabinet is severely lacking.” Lena drawled, leaning against the doorframe, cutting off Kara’s thoughts.

_Oh god what am I going to do about Lena? She’s my hostage, right? Oh no. I have a hostage. Am I a criminal now? Holy crap. What is Alex going to think? I just ran off to the other side of the planet, for god sakes. Gosh, I bet she’s worrying her socks off because of me._

“Hello?” Lena snapped her fingers in her face, pulling Kara out of her stream of consciousness. “Earth to Kara, are you even listening to me?”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“No, you weren’t. I just saw you zone out for a solid minute. I was trying to tell you that—”

The hairs on the back of Kara’s neck stood at attention. She held up her hand to quiet Lena. The heiress huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms, displeasure clearly etched in her face. Kara could hear it now, the sound of…a zipper? Fabric ripping? She wasn’t sure. Inching towards the balcony, she was acutely aware of her surroundings. How her shoes sounded as she took a step on the hardwood floor, how the stack of dollar bills on the edge of the desk was dangerously close to falling, how Lena’s blouse ruffled anytime she moved. But she couldn’t hear the sound anymore.

Then, suddenly, the glass doors shattered, ushering in a heavily armed man tied to a harness and rope. He flew in, guns blazing, bullets embedding themselves in to the walls. Lena threw herself out of the room and rushed into the one across the hall. Kara gripped the barrel of the gun with both hands and forced it upwards. Her assailant continued to fire the weapon, painting the ceiling with holes. At the same time, she sidestepped and swept her leg from behind the assassin, pulling both of them to the floor. With both of them laying claim to the gun, they wrestled for the sole possession of it. The bullets didn’t stop. Kara had the presence of mind to keep the gun pointed upwards, lest a stray bullet accidently hit Lena. A few seconds later, the gun emitted an audible _click_ , alerting Kara that the magazine was finally empty. In that brief moment of confusion for her attacker, Kara took the opportunity and delivered a crushing elbow to his face. Now momentarily dazed, she saw the grip on the gun lessen in the corner of her eye. She slapped the gun away with her left hand and kicked it out of their way, far from their position. While Kara was focused on getting rid of the gun from the equation, the man managed to catch her in a headlock and lift both of their bodies. Kara resisted, angling her body so that she would be slanted rather than upright. She transferred her weight to her left leg and used the assassin’s body as a counter weight as she swung her right leg in an overhead arc and kicked his head.

Immediately afterwards, she sent two rapid blows with her elbow to his ribs. There was a definite _crack_ when she made contact. He released his grip on Kara as he doubled over, clutching his side. Kara wasted no time. With a running start, she reared back and let a vicious right hook fly. The momentum of the punch threw his entire body to the left with a grunt, leaving him sprawled out on the floor. In a surprisingly acrobatic move, he leapt back up on his feet. He fished a switchblade from his belt. The blade glinted in the afternoon sun.

“Kara, watch out! The knife!” Lena called out from the doorway. From what Kara could make out, she was untouched.

With the weapon advantage, the assailant charged forward, kicking out his right leg and aiming for Kara’s side when she was in range. She was able to block the blow with her foot by raising her own leg. She then blocked a quick right hook, left hook combo with her forearms. A quick swipe caught her bicep and she hissed in pain. He twisted the knife in his hand and lunged forward, his eyes wide with anger. Kara stepped to the side and the blade struck nothing but air. She clutched his outstretched arm with one hand and attempted to disarm him with a strike to his wrist with the other. Twisting his arm free, the assassin backed off a step. Kara then took the chance to stride and kick his chest in one leap, sending him crashing on top of the coffee table. She heard him gasp for breath as she suspected that the wind was knocked out of him, but nevertheless, he twirled the knife in his hand and got back up as if nothing had happened. There was blood leaking out from the side of his mouth, presumably from the blow Kara had landed on his face earlier.

The assassin donned on a menacing look and strode towards Kara with a vengeance. She backed off in response, treading backwards to maintain as much distance as possible between the two of them. When she hit the edge of her desk, she felt a pulse of panic rise in her throat, but it dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. She blindly searched her desk, running her hands through the various objects strewn around, keeping her eyes trained on the advancing attacker. Her fingers closed around a pen she had used just minutes prior and she uncapped it, holding it in her hand like a knife of her own. When she held the pen out, Kara barely had enough time to dodge a swipe of the switchblade, a threatening sound cutting through the air. He then followed it up with a right jab which landed a glancing blow and then, an immediate right hook. She dodged this one without much trouble. In the split second that his fist ceased movement at the apex of swing, Kara stabbed the back of his hand and quickly yanked it back. The assailant let out a surprised grunt of pain.

Kara went on the offensive once more, throwing a hard left jab, which caused him to stumble backwards on to a drawer. He paused there to catch a brief breath, and Kara took that time to steal a glance at Lena. Her impossibly green eyes were wide with fear and horror. Her arms were tight by her side, tense.

Seeing that Kara was unfocused, the man stepped and unleashed a roundhouse kick, aimed at the side of her head. She ducked under his boot and when she came back up again, she caught his leg between her arm and her side. He then countered with an aggressive swipe that didn’t hit its mark. She grasped his forearm and held it vertically. Kara took the pen and jammed it between his knuckles, impaling him with the entire length of the pen itself, causing him to drop his blade. He stood there, momentarily stunned before pulling the now bloodied knife out from his hand. Kara caught a rather ambitious left hook and leaned against his weight to trap him where he stood. She stomped down at his shin and the unnatural angle that it bent, accompanied with a sickening _crunch_ told her that it was a clean break. She then struck his extended elbow with all her force. _Crunch._ A well-placed jab sent him to the ground for good. Lena let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

Kara knelt beside him, taking the assassin’s backpack and throwing it in Lena’s direction. She barely caught it.

“Open that. Open that and tell me what’s inside.” Kara ordered. Lena tried to voice her complaint, but the words wouldn’t leave her throat. Turning her attention back to the man, Kara asked, “who are you?” She gripped his hair and slammed his head on the wooden floor. “Who are you?” She asked with more force. Another slam. “Who are you?”

Meanwhile, Lena emptied the bag out onto the floor. Contact lenses, a French passport, a wallet, keys, and two sheets of folded paper. The papers were arrest warrants. For them. More specifically, for:

 _Kara Bourne, armed and dangerous_ and _Unidentified female._

A headshot of Kara was plastered on one while a blurry photograph of the two of them exiting the jet was on the other.

“Answer me! Who are you?” She was practically yelling in his face at this point.

“He’s got my picture!” Lena cried.

Kara looked towards her and assured her, “all right, hang on.”

“This is just a few hours ago! In Paris!”

“No, no, no, no! Don’t—” Kara held up a hand, trying to prevent Lena from coming any further. Lena strode over to the man, ignoring Kara.

“I don’t know. Where did you get this?” She shoved the warrants in his face. He didn’t respond.

“Lena, stay there.”

“How did you get my picture?” She continued. Kara then stood up to physically remove Lena from the man, pulling her to the other side of the room. “Where did you get this from?” She cried out.

“I’ll do this. I’ll do this! You stay there!”

Then suddenly, with a loud gasp, the assassin shot up, getting back up on his feet, and promptly proceeded to throw himself out the window onto the pavement, ten stories below. Kara and Lena could only stare in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, the pen scene is one of my favorite scenes in all of cinema. So badass. This is the first time I've ever written a fight scene, so please let me know if anything seemed off or confusing. If you liked it, then that's good too! Great, actually!
> 
> Bonus points if you caught the Snowpiercer reference!
> 
> If you want to follow me on tumblr, my tumblr handle? is @window-raindrops. Thanks again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex rushes to find Kara and Supercorp deals with the aftermath of the assassination attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh what even is a regular updating schedule???? Sorry, sorry, sorry. Here's a quickie.

“Sawyer!” A gruff voice called out across the bullpen.

The newly promoted detective perked up at the mention of her name and hurried to end her phone call. Her desk was starting to get messy; stacks of ballistics reports and accounts of witnesses at the scene sprawled all over her desk with numerous pens and coffee cups scattered around for good measure. She hung up and finished taking the last of her notes before rushing to meet her captain.

This was her 2nd straight day without any sleep and she was starting to doubt if the caffeine had any potency anymore. She expected detective work to be challenging, sure, but trying to track down seven unnamed, unidentified shooters who shot at a mysterious figure in broad daylight in the middle of Metropolis was proving to be damn near impossible. There were dozens of shell casings to analyze, more than a handful of witness accounts of varying degrees of credibility and accuracy, and not to mention that the shooters and the figure they had been chasing seemingly disappeared without a trace. Everyone at the precinct was on high-alert and there was pressure from the higher ups to resolve this case quickly. _Easy for them to say._

“Sawyer, if you don’t get your ass in here in five seconds, you can go back to filing papers for a living!”

Maggie just about sprinted into the captain’s office.

“Sorry, ma’am. I was just finishing up an interview with-” she tried to defend herself.

“Not important.” The captain waved her hand dismissively. She handed the detective a plane ticket.

“What’s this for?”

“You’re going to Paris.”

“Ma’am I just-” Maggie started to object, but the captain held up a hand, barring her from interrupting.

“It’s related to the case, Sawyer. There is a BOLO in Paris for someone that matches our runner. I talked with Interpol and they agreed to let you act as the Metropolis PD liaison for the investigation. Pack your bags, the plane leaves in two hours.”

* * *

 

Alex couldn’t stop shaking her leg. She was on her third cup of coffee just this morning. That might have had something to do with her jittery state. Also, the fact that Kara was missing, presumably on the run, chased by multiple gunmen who want her dead for reasons unknown probably has a lot to do with that too. And Alex was just going to waltz into Paris with no plan, barely any money, and no knowledge of the French language whatsoever and somehow find Kara. All of that while not getting shot by the same people who shot at Kara in Metropolis.

_Great plan, Alex. You really out did yourself this time,_ she berated herself.

After Kara hung up, Alex immediately began to pack, shoving clothes haphazardly into her suitcase without much care for tidiness. After packing, she went online trying to find the earliest available flight to Paris. Although Kara could technically be anywhere in the world, there was only one place she would end up in a situation like this. The two of them spent many late-night hours theorizing who Kara could have been.

“Do you think I was some kind of shady business woman?” Kara asked, scraping the bottom of her pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Alex dug a scoop out of her own container, plain chocolate, and ponders that possibility for a moment. “Hmm, maybe. Like setting up shell companies and making backdoor deals?”

“Or something like that. Can’t imagine why someone would have that many passports with different names. Whoever I was, I clearly wasn’t up to anything legal.”

“Hey, you never know. Maybe they were made for something less sinister. Like to get into clubs and whatnot.”

Kara laughs heartedly, tilting her head back. “Alex, who uses a passport as a fake ID?”

“I’m just spitting out ideas here.”

Kara jumped to her feet and skipped (sometimes, Alex thought Kara could be twelve) to the fridge, looking for another pint of mint chocolate chip. She let out a squeal once she found it and plopped back onto the couch. They sat in comfortable silence, happy to focus on the ice cream for now. After a long pause, Kara asked:

“Alex, have you ever been to Paris?”

“Is this about the address that you found?” Kara nodded vigorously in response. It was clear that this has been on Kara’s mind lately. More often than not, Alex found her reading books on France well into the night to see if she could remember anything from her past. “No, I’ve never been. I actually haven’t been out of the country in my life. Heard it’s gorgeous there, though.” Alex answered wistfully, staring out into nothing in particular. She took a pensive scoop into her mouth. “Maybe we can go there sometime when we save enough money for the tickets. You can give me the whole tour.” Kara’s face lit up brilliantly at the suggestion.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Truthfully, this was not what Alex had in mind for her first trip outside of the United States. She expected a bubbly blonde to tag along with her, rattling on and on about how much she’s excited for the trip and how much Alex is going to love it there. All the while Alex desperately tried to stop Kara from ransacking the donut shop in the airport. Instead, she was here alone, fidgeting nervously and with a permanent worry etched on her face.

She had just about emptied out her bank account for the ticket. That was another problem: once she got there, she barely has enough money for a night at a cheap hotel and a meal or two. What was she doing? More importantly, what was Kara doing?

A voice rang out from the speakers, calling Alex and the other zone 4 passengers to the gate. She slung the hefty duffle bag over her shoulder and strode to her seat near the back of the plane. Alex lifted the bag and shoved it in the overhead bin with a grunt before sinking into her aisle seat. The one to her right was blissfully empty and Alex hoped that it’ll stay that way for the rest of her flight. If she had to sit next to some slimy asshole or a little kid for nine hours, she just might jump out of the plane, with or without a parachute. Letting out a long sigh, she pulled out her phone from her coat pocket, checking for the fiftieth time if Kara had miraculously texted her to let her know that she’s okay and that she’s coming home any minute now. Her screen was blank, as expected. She rolled her shoulders, trying to get some tension out, but to no avail.

“You’re in my seat,” a voice surprised her, making her jump a little in her seat. So much for relieving tension.

Alex glared up to her left, ready to let some sarcastic responses fly, but they died in her throat. She couldn’t help but soften her gaze when she took the time to actually notice whose seat she was supposedly occupying. Alex struggled to formulate a coherent sentence, starting with a word or two, but not making any real progress.

Finally, she managed to get out, “Your seat?”

The shorter brunette gave her a knowing smirk. “Yeah, 29B? That’s mine,” she said, gesturing to the seat with her ticket.

“Oh, sorry,” Alex muttered, sliding to her right. Once properly situated, the woman offered her hand and her bright smile.

“We might have gotten off on the wrong foot - I’m Maggie.” Alex gladly took her hand which had a surprisingly firm and strong grip.

“Alex.” It took most of her courage to lock eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alex.”

“Likewise.”

The two of them traded pleasantries, only pausing when the flight attendant reminded Maggie to fasten her seatbelt. As the plane jolted into motion, Alex flinched simultaneously, gripping the seat divider a little too tightly.

“First time on a plane?”

“No, but first time out of the country.”

“What brings you to Paris?”

“Am I being interrogated?”

Maggie shrugged. “Just asking.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“A special someone?” The detective asked, raising her eyebrow.

At that, Alex made a face. “No not like that. More like a sister kind of way.”

“Ah.”

“What about you?”

“I’m a detective; flying out to Paris for a lead.”

Alex pondered the information for a moment. “Detective, huh? So, I am being interrogated.” A slight smile made its way to her face.

“Smart ass.” They shared a laugh and Alex felt the tension in her shoulders ease lessen just a bit.

* * *

 

They were stumbling, precariously making their way downstairs of Kara’s apartment building. Kara held her bag over her left shoulder while holding Lena up with her right. The poor girl was deathly pale, even more so than usual. If that was even possible. She was muttering to herself, repeating the phrase, “He had my picture” over and over again with a couple of “he almost killed me” sprinkled in there as well.

_You mean he almost killed us. I did most of the heavy lifting, after all,_ Kara thought to herself. She had to walk much slower than she would have liked, as Lena was unfit to do so on her own. Every second they wasted was another second _they_ had on two of them. Whoever they might be.

When the duo made their way to the bottom of the staircase and into the lobby, they were greeted with a shocking sight: the concierge, dead, sitting motionless on the chair beside the main door with a single bullet hole in her forehead. The wound was still leaking blood. Lena responded just as well as Kara expected her to. She immediately hurled on the marble floor. The girl still had the presence of mind to aim away from her shoes and to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of her blouse afterwards.

“Come on, Lena. Not much farther now.” Kara urged, leading the two of them away from the doors and the dead concierge. Truthfully, she had no idea where she was going, just trusting the itch in the back of her head telling her to head towards the door in the back of the lobby. They stumble through the doorway, blinking to let their eyes adjust to the darker lighting. To their right, a car was parked with a posted sign bearing her last name. An Audi R8. _Wait, how did I know that. Nevermind that. Need to get out. Need to get out. Focus, Kara, focus!_

Thankfully, the passenger-side door opened without any protest, and Kara thanked her past self silently for leaving the car keys in the cup holder. She gently eased Lena into the seat, and buckled her in, setting the bag on her lap.

“I’m going to get us out of here, okay?” Lena gave her a weak nod in response. _Good enough answer for now._ Kara then quickly made her way around the hood of the car to the driver’s seat, buckling in herself. As the engine roared to life, Lena jumped in her seat and turned to stare intently at Kara. She was starting to look more like the girl she had met nearly a day ago.

“Kara, get us out of here.” She was more than happy to oblige.

The tire squeals echoed throughout the garage and the supercar practically jumped out onto the Parisian streets. They took a right at the first intersection they encountered. After two blocks, Kara seemed to notice something on the street and suddenly pulled over, earning them a couple of angry honks from the native Parisians.

Lena’s eyes were wide. “Wha- What’s wrong? Why did we stop?”

Kara opened the door on her side. “I’ll be right back. Two seconds, I promise.” She left without waiting for Lena’s response. The younger girl watched as Kara disappeared into the crowd. Her eyes drifted over to the key still in the cup holder and then back to Kara’s bag on her lap. _There’s money in the bag and the car’s still running. It’d be so easy…_

Before she could continue in her thoughts, Kara returned with a map of Paris in her hands. “Sorry, just had to get this first.” She got to work, quickly diving into the map to analyze the sprawling streets of Paris. Kara’s impossibly blue eyes were narrowed in concentration as she continuously turned the map in her hands. Lena turned her focus on to the road ahead, where a couple of cops in uniform were slowly making their way towards their car. They were cautious but deliberate in their approach, clearly expecting some kind of trouble. Lena grasped Kara’s arm in alarm.

“Kara, cops.”

The blonde glanced up from her map and confirmed what Lena was seeing. She folded the map and tossed it into the backseats. With a deep breath, Kara gripped the steering wheels once more.

“You can go, you know. I can distract them long enough for you to get away. You don’t have to stay with me, Lena. You can still get out of this.”

Lena stared at her blankly for a moment.

“Last chance, Lena.” The cops were only a few meters away from the hood of the car.

Her passenger shook her head. “Punch it.” With a curt nod, Kara sped off into the streets, the car’s engine screaming in effort. The cops barely jumped out of the way, and stumbled back to their cars as they rushed to the chase. Within the first minute, the full wrath of the Parisian police force was unleashed upon them.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably write more this weekend as I have no stake in the Superbowl lol. My poor Vikings :(


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Black Panther coming out this week, the car chase scene was written under the inspiration of the song Legend Has It by Run the Jewels from the movie's soundtrack. So badass.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!

            “How long has she been missing?”

            “Approximately three months, sir.”

            “And she just resurfaced in Paris?”

            “As of twelve hours ago.”

            “What’s Bourne’s game? Is she trying to send a message? Is it a ploy?”

            “We don’t know her intent sir.”

            “What a fucking mess. First Wombosi, now Bourne? You better clean this up before it blows up in both of our faces.”

            “I am well aware of the consequences. We’ve just dispatched an asset to deal with Bourne.”

            “Good, keep me updated.”

            “Will do, sir.”

            “Now, as for Wombosi, his recent statements on camera has ruffled a lot of feathers in Washington; sooner we get him to stop talking about the hit attempt, sooner we can discuss future funding on Treadstone.”

            “Understood.”

            “You can see yourself out.” A nod. “And Hank? You’re on a very short leash here. Make sure you don’t choke on it.”

* * *

            Lena had ridden her fair share of fast vehicles. She got here on a private jet for god’s sake! But riding in a twelve cylinder behemoth of a machine with the power of six hundred and ten horses with Kara at the wheel…that was something else.

            They raced past shops at speeds that would have made the Autobahn blush. With her eyes wide and her knuckles a ghostly white, Lena gripped the handle as if her life depended on it. And in a big way, it did. In the back mirror, Kara could see two patrol cars attempting to gain ground. To their front, a busy roundabout centered by a steel statue filled with evening commuters. Instead of easing off the accelerator to merge into traffic, Kara slammed on the gas pedal. Her right hand was moving at a blazing speed, shifting from one gear to the next in rapid succession.

            “Kara, wait wait wait!” Lena called out, genuinely fearing for her life. She shut her eyes and prepared for impact. Through a stroke of luck (or skill depending on how you look at it), Kara maneuvered the car over to the innermost lane untouched. She then jerked the parking brake. The helpless Luthor was slammed into the passenger side door as the car caught the inside track, void of traffic and drifted around the statue in a surprising move of grace. When they were about three quarters around the roundabout, Kara rushed them to the outermost lane and out to the exit, much to the disgust of the Parisian drivers.

            “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just did that,” Lena let out, still trying to catch her breath. She risked a glance back and nearly cried out in fear when she saw that the two cop cars were somehow hot on their trails once more. With a quick check over to her back mirror, Kara caught them as well. They made a sudden left and ripped down a single lane one way street. Nearly a hundred meters out, two police motorcycles rounded the corner and were making their way towards the Audi. It soon became painfully apparent that they were getting boxed in.

            With a huff of frustration, Kara said to Lena, “Hold on.”

            If Lena wasn’t so goddamn terrified, she would have scoffed in response. Hold on? As if she wasn’t doing enough of that already!

            A quick jerk of the steering wheel led them to an even narrower pathway, lined in cobbled stone. Thankfully, the cop cars didn’t give chase as they wouldn’t have fit without seriously damaging their vehicles. However, the motorcycles were still in pursuit. And gaining.

            “So, uh Lena?” Kara called.

            “What?” Lena responded through clenched teeth.

            “We have a bump coming up.”

            “A bump? What are you-” Before she could finish that sentence, the path ceased to exist, giving way to a flight of stairs. Lena had never screamed so loudly in her life. The car’s suspension was put to the test, as the two of them were haphazardly thrown around in their seats. The car landed with a crunch and Lena could have sworn she saw sparks when the metal met concrete. Paying no mind to the exterior damage to her car, Kara shifted into gear and took off again. The ensuing road wasn’t any wider; there were parked cars lined on both sides of the street as far as 200 meters, give or take.

            Then suddenly, a brilliant owner of one of the parked cars thought it was the perfect time to merge back on to the street and block their path. Kara slammed on the brakes. But instead of staying still, she steered the car over on the sidewalk, causing mass hysteria for the innocent bystanders. People dove out of the way to avoid becoming roadkill. The car blasted through any object in their way; it didn’t discriminate. Trashcans, fruit stands, an open fuse box, it didn’t matter.

            Lena looked to her right to check if the motorcycles were still there. They were, nearly even with them. And if that wasn’t enough, in the distance, trailing them were a new pair of patrol cars.

            With her eyes still glued on the road, Kara directed Lena, “Turn your head away.” To which she obliged even though she didn’t understand the reasoning. They merged back into the street, wedging themselves between the two motorcycles. Kara kept up just enough pace to lightly nudge the back wheel of the first motorcycle. In a move that caught both Lena and the cops off guard, Kara yanked on the parking brake and made a violent U-turn onto the highway ramp. She caught the wheel of the first motorcycle, sending it into a spinning skid on the road. The following officer couldn’t dodge in time and crashed right into the fallen motorcycle.

            The victory was short-lived, however, as Lena quickly realized that Kara had driven them into the wrong lanes of traffic. She screamed once again now that they were trying to survive an onslaught of cars speeding towards them. Kara didn’t seem too fazed by the situation, weaving expertly from lane to lane, ignoring all the honks directed at her.

            Rather than playing it safe, the patrol cars had followed them down the ramp. Amazingly, they were keeping up with Kara, dodging expertly in their own right. A hefty van was directly in their sights, but Kara made no effort to move out of the way. Instead, she kept on, actually increasing her speed. At the last second, she swerved into the right, and in a desperate attempt to avoid a crash, the van lurched to its right and fell over on its side. While the two girls were able to maneuver past the van, the patrol cars had no such luck as they crashed into van harmlessly. They took the next available exit and slipped off to an underground public parking lot unnoticed. When the car finally came to rest, Kara let out a breath she held for a long time. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to ease some of the tension in her muscles. She glanced over to her right, checking on Lena. The heiress was doing as well as Kara hoped. Alive, mostly. Other than that, she was as pale as ever and her breathing was certainly heavy, no doubt recovering from the prolonged spike in adrenaline.

            “We can’t come back to this car,” Kara started. Lena was pulled out of her trance and turned to meet eyes with Kara. “I’ll wipe it down and then we should look for a place to stay.”

* * *

            Lena felt much better after a hot shower. The tension in her muscles slowly but surely eased its way out, and she was grateful for it. Truthfully, the excitement of the day was more than she had bargained for when she originally agreed to accompany Kara on her journey. Call it a bit of naiveté on her part, but she had believed that they had left what ‘little’ danger followed Kara at the tarmac in Metropolis. _Foolish._ Lena could hear her mother’s voice as clear as ever. _Luthors are never careless, Lena. We do not underestimate._ Oh god, she could just taste the disappointment rolling off her mother’s words.

            Regardless of her expectations, Lena was in this with Kara now. Whatever _this_ classified as. An adventure? A desperate flight? Running for their lives? Did that mean that they were now fugitives?

            Lena turned off the steaming water and stepped out of the shower, immediately longing for the warmth as she did so. Wrapping herself with a towel, Lena took the time to reacquire her surroundings. The bathroom was cramped, in a word. She had never seen a sink, a toilet, and a shower/bathtub in such close proximity before. How people live like this, she had no idea. It was definitely not her element. Wincing slightly, she reached for another towel to dry off her hair. The way her sides ached proved to her that she really should have listened to her mother and taken those self-defense classes. _No. Stop thinking about her. Enough of her rules. This is want you wanted, isn’t it? To be away from her, to be away from the job and the ‘Luthor legacy.’ Whatever that means._

            She took another surveying glance across the tiny room. Was it uncomfortable? Sure. Was it borderline unsanitary in some parts? Yes. Was it completely unbecoming of someone with Lena’s status to spend a night in this dump? Also yes. But did Kara work her ass off to get them here safe and undetected? Absolutely. And Lena was damned if she wasn’t going to at least try to appreciate what Kara’s had done for the both of them today.

            After a couple of minutes, her hair was reasonably dried and Lena took the time to look herself in the mirror. The girl that stared back at her didn’t look a day over eighteen. She wasn’t old by any metric; she was just barely old enough to drink, after all. But as she faced her reflection, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense that she missed something. She missed a childhood, one that wasn’t buried in lectures, lessons, and books. She missed all the excitement and freedom that came along with being a kid and a teenager. She missed friends, the kind that she only briefly saw in movies. The ones who would listen to her day to day issues, her relationship troubles, and freak out about the latest TV show craze together. She missed running in the dewy grass without a care in the world. She missed late night ice cream runs with teammates after a sports practice.

            She missed…life.

            She missed all of it: the good and the bad and the awkward. Instead, she filled the empty space with the regimented lifestyle her mother had prescribed. It seemed that Lena was too smart, too gifted for her own good. Maybe if she wasn’t a Luthor, maybe if she wasn’t _Lena,_ she could be who she wanted to be. She just wanted to be normal for a change.

            A knock and a tentative voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

            “Lena, are you decent? I wanted to talk to you,” Kara called from the other side of the bathroom door.

            Grabbing a tank top and a pair of shorts Kara had packed from her apartment, she responded, “Yes, just one second!” After getting dressed, she yanked open the door, a bit too forcefully, if she was being honest. She was greeted by a surprised Kara, who was taken aback by the action. With a second to adjust, the blonde still struggled to find her words as she certainly wasn’t prepared for Lena to look so _casual._ She wasn’t even sure Lena had a casual bone in her body.

            Lena raised her eyebrow, waiting for Kara to say something. “Well?” She asked. “You wanted to talk?”

            Kara blinked a few times to get her bearings straight (or not.) and stepped aside to allow Lena to make her way towards the living room, if you could call it that. “Er- yes.” She caught up with Lena and snatched a red backpack from the couch. She stood face to face with the heiress and presented the backpack to her, prompting Lena to inspect it with her own hands.

            “What’s this for?”

            “It’s for you. It’s got 15,000 Euros in it along with a Eurorail ticket due for London.” Kara shoulders visibly slouched. “I’ve about what happened today, and you gotta go to the cops, Lena. You gotta go before this gets any worse.”

            “Kara, I—”

            “My passport’s in there—you could tell them what happened. You have the picture, the 15,000, and you can tell them everything that happened. Everything. There gonna believe you. They have to believe you.” Kara let out a deep sigh. “Lena, you can’t do this. It’s not safe for you.”

            “Safe?” Lena barked out a laugh. “I think safe sailed a long time ago when an assassin tried to shoot us both.”

            “Lena, I’m trying to do the right thing for you, okay?” Lena snapped.

            “The right thing? Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what’s right for me? You don’t know shit. You think just because I can’t punch someone through the wall, I don’t know what the fuck is going on?”

            “Look, Lena—”

            “No, fuck this. How is me going to London alone the right thing to do, huh?” Lena snarled, her face just inches away from Kara’s.

            Kara matched her volume. “You think I want you to go to the cops? You think that’s good for me?”

            “No, of course not, you dimwit! That’s why it’s a terrible idea! If you want me to tell the cops that badly, then you fucking tell them what happened!”

            “I don’t know what happened! I don’t know who tried to kill us! I don’t know why they have our pictures, I don’t even know who I am!” Kara shouted, her face red with frustration. They were both breathing heavy, and Kara paused to compose herself just a little. “You act like I’m trying to burn you here, but I’m not. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

            “Nobody ever does the right thing, Kara.” Lena spat.

            At that, Kara’s face softened. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was clear Lena had some lingering problems of her own that she’s had to deal with. Kara had no idea what exactly made the heiress react so violently to her suggestion, yet she presumed it had a lot to do with how she was imposing this choice on Lena for her own good.

            “I’m sorry, I—I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.” Kara ran her fingers through her blonde locks nervously.

            Lena met Kara’s cerulean eyes with a certain look of defiance.

            “Well, if it wasn’t clear before, I know I can handle myself. Regardless of what you may think about my safety, whoever’s chasing you—chasing _us_ has both of our faces on a warrant. I’m stuck with you whether you like it or not.” She crossed her arms against her chest for emphasis.

            “Okay.”

            Lena was taken aback, expecting another round of bickering.

            “Okay?”

            “Yup.”

            “Good,” Lena huffed. “I’m taking the bed,” she called out as she brushed past Kara.

            “The couch it is then,” Kara muttered under her breath.

            “What was that?”

            “Hmm? Nothing.”

            Kara turned the lights off and laid on her side on the small couch, willing her brain to go to sleep. Her legs were folded uncomfortably as she struggled to fit her long, nimble limbs into the confines of the cramped couch. She tossed and turned, trying desperately to find a sleeping position that would result in terrible back pain in the morning, but to no avail. After minutes of rustling, Kara heard Lena’s voice.

            “Kara, shut up please.”

            “Sorry.”

            In the following attempts, she tried to be sneakier, maneuvering her body at a sloth’s pace, not daring to bother Lena. However, she just ended up making more noise this way.

            “Kara?” Lena sighed.

            “Yes?”

            “Get up here.” Kara jumped at the opportunity, but cautiously approached the bed, remembering how upset Lena was with her just minutes prior.

            “You sure?”

            “Yes, I’m sure, you dork. I’m going to blow my brains out if I have to listen to you move around any longer.”

            Kara slid into the other side of the bed, careful to put a respectable distance between the two bodies. Without Kara’s noises, Lena fell asleep almost immediately. The events of the day must have been taxing for her. For a moment, Kara worried that her nightmares might make an appearance that night. But with the soft sound of Lena’s controlled breathing, she drifted slowly to slumber, her visions of the depths replaced by emerald eyes and red lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got more free time now in my life so we're looking at an update every two weeks. Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. I couldn't resist that gay joke thrown in there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than expected, but have no fear! It's spring break very soon for me, and I'll be writing all the time for my fics and my screenplay for the short film I'm making. I'm half excited and half terrified.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think! You guys are the best!

While the overall tone of the conversation was casual, Alex had no doubts that Maggie Sawyer was carefully and expertly extracting information from her. At the moment, she knew deep down that was what was happening, but in her anxious and flustered state, Alex wasn’t in the right mind to pick it up immediately. She stuttered here and there, left out key parts of her story only for them to be extracted by Maggie once she caught the inconsistency, and blushed uncontrollably when the detective made more than a handful of flirty and suggestive remarks.

From what Maggie was able to squeeze out of Alex, the gears in her head began turning. What the redhead had told her could all just be a simple coincidence, but as a detective, she knew better than to dismiss happenings such as these as a mere coincidence. To narrow her perceived list of possibilities, especially in a strange case like the one she was assigned to, was in her opinion, shoddy detective work.

Observations that were too “perfect” to be a mere coincidence:

  1. Alex was looking for a blonde girl, in her early twenties, who apparently may or may not be her sister (odd, but Maggie chose to skip that for more pertinent information)
  2. The girl disappeared just a couple days ago under unknown (or mysterious) circumstances
  3. Clearly, she went to Paris
  4. Judging from Alex’s nervous body language and her choice in diction as she describes the situation (albeit rather vaguely), the girl is in some kind of trouble. Maybe even in danger



Now, that wasn’t to say that Alex’s sister-friend-person was for sure the blonde suspect that she was chasing. A couple of statements from a random passenger isn’t going to stand in court or even convince her captain. Far from it. However, it was enough to start a hunch. A hunch that maybe, just maybe she should help Alex Danvers find her… let’s just say sister, for simplicity’s sake.

She was a professional. Newly minted, but still, a formal detective of the Metropolis Police Department. And if a concerned (and attractive) citizen of the greater Metropolis metro area required her assistance, who was she to refuse?

* * *

“Code in.”

“Alpha 37509”

“One moment.”

A new voice.

“Tell me. What happened?”

“She killed our man.”

“What? In the apartment?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you gotta clean that up, Lane.”

“No, I can’t just _clean it up._ There’s a body in the street.”

“So?”

An eye roll.

“There’s police. This is Paris. Do I really need to elaborate?”

“All right, you can cut the shit.” A sigh. “Put up scanners, and get as much radio information as you can. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“And Lane?”

“Yeah?”

“Make contact with the Professor. I want Wombosi gone by midnight.”

* * *

Lena, despite her outrageous work ethic, was not a morning person. On work days, her bedroom was always blaring with various alarms she had set up the day prior. She didn’t trust herself to wake up with just one. After laboriously untangling her limbs from her silk sheets, she would trudge to her connected bathroom and groggily prepare to face the day. Or more accurately, prepare to deal with her mother for entire day. Somewhere between showering and confirming her daily reservation at her favorite upscale breakfast restaurant downtown, she usually managed to make coffee, even with the copious amount of sleep still coating her eyes.

Weekends were much more enjoyable. She slept in until as long as she liked. Her breakfast reservations morphed into brunch reservations, she could spend the entire day laughing at the worst TED talks on the couch, and she didn’t have to see Lillian. If Lena was feeling extra sporty, she would take a little stroll around the park right outside her apartment building.

It turned out, however, that Kara Bourne was definitely a morning person, a fact she discovered by waking up to an empty bed. For a split second, as she felt around her the blonde’s warmth and only found cold sheets, Lena missed having Kara next to her. She didn’t have to look far to find Kara; she sat comfortably on a chair expectantly only a couple feet away from the bed, sporting a bright smile on her face.

“Morning, sleepy head!” Kara greeted the heiress. This was a bit too loud and absolutely too cheerful for morning hours, regardless of time zone. Lena merely groaned in response and buried her head in the sheets. “You know, you’re gonna have to wake up sooner or later.”

Lena muttered some string of unintelligible words, muffled by the fabric covering her mouth.

Kara giggled and Lena felt her heart trip over itself, even though she would deny it. _Wow. Gorgeous. Wait what?_

“What was that?” Kara asked. “I can speak a lot of languages, but I’m not too familiar with that one.”

Lena jerked the sheets away from her face and abruptly sat up.

“I said, ‘it’s too early.’”

“You do realize that it’s nearly 10:30, right?”

The heiress merely raised an eyebrow. “And your point is?”

This elicited a chuckle from the blonde. “The point is that we have to move; can’t stay in one place for too long. So, brush your teeth, shower, or whatever you need to do.”

“Can’t we stay for a bit longer? I’m sure we’ve lost them by now.”

“Well, whoever is chasing us definitely isn’t taking their beauty sleep until 10:30. Come on, up and at ‘em!” Kara offered a hand to Lena, who reluctantly took it. Lena was caught off guard by Kara’s sheer strength as she was pulled up from the bed. Stumbling on her feet, Lena fell into Kara and just about hugged her for balance. On accident. Yes. Definitely on accident.

Lena didn’t dare to look up; she didn’t want the blonde to catch her reddened cheeks. From the close proximity, she couldn’t tell if the erratic heartbeats belonged to her, Kara, or both of them.

“I’ll just go to the bathroom then,” she muttered, shrugging her body away from Kara’s.

_Oh god, she’s so toned. No, hold it together, Lena. You’re a Luthor, have some dignity. But her arms…holy shit. Stop! Nope! You are brushing your teeth and splashing some water on your face and forgetting about whatever the hell that was back there._

“Sounds, sounds good!” Kara squeaked out. The blonde’s cheeks were red hot as well, and it certainly wasn’t due to the weather.

While in the bathroom, Lena made quick work of her basic hygiene routine with the meager supplies that Kara had gathered. Checking that she was, in fact, presentable to be seen by other living human beings, Lena stepped out of the bathroom and saw Kara, waiting for her on the couch with a small paper bag in her hand. At the sound of the door opening, Kara turned towards Lena to catch her putting her hair up in a ponytail. The blonde rose up and bounded over to where the heiress was standing in a near skip.

_Did she just…? She skipped. She definitely just skipped. Oh god, I’m a goner. Lord help me._

Kara flashed her a smile, radiant as always, and held out the bag in Lena’s face.

“I got you breakfast, while you were sleeping.”

“Oh, thank you,” Lena reached to grab the bag, but stopped half way. “Wait, what is it?”

“They’re donuts,” Kara’s face scrunched up to an adorable frown. “You eat those right?”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Well, I am human. Despite what the press may say.”

“What press?”

Pausing mid-bite, Lena asked, “surely, you’ve seen the articles.”

“Nope, I don’t think we had internet back in Midvale.”

“Unbelievable,” Lena muttered. “Kara, do you know who I am?”

A scoff escaped the blonde’s lips. _Oh no, here it comes._

“Of course, you’re Lena. Who else would you be? Are you feeling okay? Do you need some Advil?”

“No, Kara. My full name. Do you know my full name?”

“Uh, no. You’ve haven’t told me your last name.”

Lena took a big bite out of her chocolate covered donut. “Well, it’s not that important. Shall we go?”

“Yeah, sure. We can leave after I wipe down the room. Just don’t leave crumbs.”

After a few minutes, the two of them were walking side by side on the streets of Paris. They were close enough that their arms would brush against one another every couple seconds or so, but there were enough space between them to be considered respectable. Even in the late morning, the streets remained crowded with people of all ages hustling and bustling to be somewhere and not miss a deadline.

“So, what’s next?” Lena asked. There was a bit of a spring in her step as she anticipated the events for the day. Assassins on their tail or not, the last couple of days have been a whirlwind of excitement for Lena, and she was ready to see what the new day had in store for them.

Kara directed her attention to the tall, glamourous building ahead of them, across the street. She was pointing to the gilded sign that read, _Hotel Regina_.

“The _Regina_ , Kara? I thought we were trying to lay low?” Lena asked, her brows scrunching.

“We’re not staying.”

“Oh.” _Another day in a cramped motel room, I guess._

“It’s for information. Apparently, according to the hotel staff, that’s the last place I stayed before I ‘died.’” Kara used airquotes.

“When did you find that out?”

“Back in the apartment, when you were busy complaining about my liquor cabinet.”

“Well, I wasn’t wrong; your collection was appalling.” Lena huffed out.

“Anyways, we need to find out who I’ve called while I was checked in at the hotel. I was some kind of shipping businesswoman, I think and-” The heiress sported an utterly confused look. “The apartment, Lena.”

“Ah.”

“-And if I was a businesswoman, then I would have definitely made some calls from the hotel, right? For deals and whatnot? Isn’t that how it works?”

“Well, if the need arises, yes. I guess for setting up appointments the hotel phone could suffice. Nothing more than that though.”

“Ok, that’s all that we need.”

“What’s the plan?”

“The hotel would have records of each incoming and outgoing call to a specific room at a given day because they have to redirect each call from the front desk to the room phone. That’s what we’re looking for. So first, I need you to go in and do some recon for me-”

“Wait, what? Me?” Lena interrupted, taken aback by the sudden shift in roles.

“Yes, you. I can’t go scope the place out. They think I’m dead, remember?”

“Right, right, right…” Lena murmured. She took a deep breath and started shaking her arms, in an effort to get them loose and ready for action, to which Kara started chuckling.

“Relax, you silly. I’m not going to ask you to go out and punch somebody.”

“Oh.” She stopped her impromptu warm up routine, her cheeks flushing. Lena was sure she looked god awfully unathletic just now. Maybe staying cooped up in the lab and lecture halls for the last ten years of her life wasn’t the best for her athletic abilities. She probably resembled a headless chicken, waving her arms around. _How embarrassing. Pull yourself together, Luthor!_

“Okay, so here’s the thing. I need the layout of the lobby so I can access the hotel manager’s office without being noticed. More specifically, I need distances. You walk in and just pick a spot, some midpoint in the lobby. I want you to count your steps to that spot and remember that number because after I call you, I can get you moving.” Kara paused to make sure Lena was following. She was.

“I also need a head count: how many people from the time you walk in to when you get to the phone desk, how many hotel employees are there, and obviously how many security guards are in the lobby, but it might not be easy to see who they are.” If it was anyone else but Lena, Kara might have been worried that this was too much information to ask someone to remember and process while being covert. But it was Lena. And Kara had absolute faith in her intellect. So, she went on.

“Exactly three minutes after you enter the building, I’ll call you, you give me the layout, and I’ll take it from there. In case something goes wrong within the three minutes, the payphone number is 616-2468. You call me before the three minutes are up, and I’ll storm in and get you out. If it all goes well, you can come out using any of the three exits: the front entrance, the service at the back, and the side exit goes to the street, past those floral shops down there. But front is the best. If you think you’re being followed at any point while you’re there, sling my bag,” Kara handed Lena her backpack. “Over your right shoulder when you walk out. Got it?” When Lena only replied with a slight nod, Kara’s concern was etched onto her face.

“Are you okay, Lena?”

“Just nervous, I guess,” Lena explained while fidgeting with the buttons on her coat.

Kara then took the opportunity to grab Lena’s hands with her own, staring intently into Lena’s eyes with her impossibly blue orbs.

“Hey,” she started softly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable.

With a slow inhale, Lena replied, “No, no. I’ll do it. I want to do it.” Kara wasn’t too convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then. One last check. What’s the payphone number?”

“616-2468.”

“Exits?”

“There’s three: service at the back, side exit that spills out to the street past the shops, but front is the best. And if I think I’m being followed, I carry the backpack over my right shoulder.” Kara stared back with a look of uncertainty and traces of guilt. “Good?” It was clear the blonde wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

Lena put on her most charming smile.

“We need this, right?” Kara nodded. Then, in a bold move, Lena touched Kara’s cheek with her hand. Her gaze hardened. “Okay, I’ll be back before you know it, darling.” And with that, Lena bounded over to Hotel Regina.

Kara was left where she stood, unmoving. She traced where Lena held her cheek with her fingers, feeling her face rise in temperature exponentially. It took a sudden honk from a nearby taxi to pull her out of her reverie.

With a determined vigor, Kara rushed to the payphone and waited, glancing at her watch every few seconds or so. When the time came, she dialed the number for the hotel front desk, tapping anxiously against the glass walls of the phone booth.

“ _Hotel Regina, how may I help you?”_

“ _Yes, can you connect me to the house phone in the lobby?”_

“ _Certainly, just one moment please.”_

As she waited for Lena to pick up, Kara’s tapping grew in frequency. After the third ring, she was starting to get worried.

_Why aren’t you picking up?_

A series of taps startled Kara, and she jerked her head towards the door of the phone booth. Surprisingly, it was Lena, sporting a wide grin on her face.

Walking out onto the street, Kara fussed over Lena, checking her face and limbs for any signs of injury.

“What happened?”            

“I-”

“Are you okay?”

“Well-”

“Are you hurt? Did something go wrong?”

“Kara! I’m okay! I got the records.” Lena proudly displayed the sheet of paper in Kara’s face.

“What? How?”

“This young concierge was smiling at me, and I thought, ‘all this trouble and elaborate scheming; why not just ask for them?’ and lo and behold, thanks to my irresistible charm, he printed it out for me.”

“You just asked for it?” Kara asked, bewildered.

“Why, Miss Bourne?” Lena donned on a sly smirk. “Do you not find me charming?”

“Well, I, no! That’s- That’s not what I meant.”

Lena’s laughter was music to her ears. The heiress led the way, ahead of Kara by just a couple of steps. She turned around to face Kara and in that instant, with the way the sun’s rays illuminated her hair, how her emerald eyes twinkled in the light, and how her brilliant smile seemed to wrap Kara in an unexplainable warmth, the blonde knew that she was helpless against this force of nature. This goddess in mortal form. She was falling. Hard.

Lena held out her hand for Kara to take.

“Come on, you are so buying me coffee for this.”

_Heaven help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't notice, I didn't put a slow burn tag for this fic. Which means that these two adorable idiots will be together sooner than later. 
> 
> On another note, you can find me on Tumblr under: window-raindrops.
> 
> See you soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cranked this out before I leave for the airport in a few hours to return home, so bare with me if there are a ton of errors.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy the chapter; You guys are the best!

            As soon as Alex and Maggie landed, the detective received a phone call that informed her to take the rental car that awaited her by the airport terminal. The regional Parisian police force had arranged for a sleek black Mini Cooper to be her designated vehicle for the duration of her stay as the Metropolis PD liaison.

            The duo stood idly near the baggage claim, unsure of where to go from there. More specifically, they didn’t know where Alex would go. Maggie had her orders and Alex—well, Alex’s plan started and ended with “get Kara out of here.”

            “So, you’re off to go do some detective business, then?” Alex asked, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as she could through mindless small talk.

            “Yeah, they have a car waiting out there for me in the lot.”

            “I’ll see around, maybe?” There was a hopeful glint in her voice.

            “Yeah. Maybe, Danvers.” Maggie started her trek towards her Mini Cooper, but she didn’t get far. Only after a couple of strides, the detective gave in to her inner struggle and turned around with a sigh. _This might be the most stupid idea you ever had, Sawyer._

            “You know what?” Alex turned around at Maggie’s voice. “I know that you don’t have a plan right now; the least I can do is give you a free ride to a hotel or something. See the sights on the way there, perhaps.” The redhead seemed a bit unsure of herself, not wanting to unnecessarily intrude. “I took European history when I was in high school; I’ll even throw in a little tour, free of charge. What do you say, Danvers?”

            Alex bit back a large smile, and replied:

            “Yeah, that sounds great.”

            In the car, the detective handed Alex the complimentary aux cord, courtesy of the rental company, and she unwittingly began to play the pop playlist that Kara had made for their car rides. Before Alex even realized it, she was humming along to _I Feel It Coming_ with as much vigor as humming could muster.

            Maggie smiled, stealing a glance at Alex, grooving to the beat.

            “Didn’t know you were a pop song kind of girl, Danvers.”

            Alex paused, and suddenly became very interested in her shoes. A pink blush was creeping up in her cheeks.

            “I’m not. It’s just a playlist that Kar—my sister made for me.”

            The little slip up didn’t go unnoticed by the detective.

            “So, your ‘sister.’ Are you sure she’s in Paris? The way I heard it, she could potentially be anywhere.”

            “No. She’s definitely here. It’s all she ever talked about; the streets, the shops, the apartment she would have owned.”

            Maggie was about to respond, when her work phone rang.

            “Uh, bonjour? Yes! This is Detective Sawyer. The where? Can you spell that out real quick? Uh huh. Yeah, got it. I look forward to meeting you too. Merci.”

            Maggie turned to Alex with an apologetic look on her face.

            “Listen, something turned up at work; they have a lead on the case that I’m working on, so we might need to take a detour. Or unless you’d rather have me drop you off at a hotel first.”

            “No, no. Go ahead, I got nothing else to do.”

            “Oh awesome! Here’s the address,” Maggie said, handing Alex a post-it note with the address scribbled on it. “Can you put that in the GPS for me?”

            Alex’s blood ran cold. It was Kara’s apartment. Maggie was working on Kara’s case!

            “Did—did they say what it was for?”

            “Something about a body, can’t tell you anymore than that.”

_Oh god. Oh no, Kara._

            Once Alex had entered in the address in the GPS with trembling hands, she said to Maggie.

            “Punch it. We have to get there as soon as we can.”

            “You okay Danvers? You look kind of pale. More than usual, I mean.”

            “Maggie, _please._ ” Alex pleaded.

            And Maggie Sawyer could never say no to a pretty girl.  

            They broke just about every traffic law in the European Union, but Maggie used the excuse of “police work” as the scapegoat. When they arrived at the scene, the area was abuzz with journalists, pedestrians, and police. A few officers were tasked with keeping the crowd at bay, reminding them every few seconds to not cross the tape for their own safety.

            Maggie parked her car near the apartment and opened the car door.

            “Stay here, Danvers. I’ll be right back.”

            Maggie flashed her badge at the policewoman in her vicinity and she was allowed passage through the crowd and under the tape. She was just about to make her introduction to the detective in charge when she heard a commotion originating from the crowd.

            “Excuse me! Sorry! Excuse me! Merci!” It was Alex, pushing her way to the front, to get a better look at the crime scene.

            “Danvers, I thought I told you to stay in the car?”

            When Alex saw the body of a blonde man in his late twenties, battered and bruised with multiple shattered bones. She couldn’t help but feel relieved and deflated at the same time.

            “Oh, Kara.” She breathed out.

* * *

            Kara was in the middle of a pensive spoonful of her mint chocolate chip ice cream when she said:

            “You know, I’ve been thinking,”

            “That’s new.”

            “Hey! Be nice!” Kara pouted.

_Never mind her killer muscles, that pout could kill anybody._

            “Fine. Fine. Go on?”

            “So, I’ve been thinking,” Kara started again. “I think I’m going to go meet this Simon Roland person.”

            “Don’t you think that could be risky?” Lena asked, rather enjoying her chocolate ice cream.

            “I mean his voicemail checks out, I got to his assistant and set up an appointment at somewhere named Alliance Security Solutions. It all seems real enough.” Lena still wasn’t to convinced. “I, or Catherine Kane or both, called this guy from my hotel room right before Kane died. He could know something.”

            “All right, fine. But don’t be surprised when I say “I told you so” if you get into any trouble.”

* * *

            “Lena! Lena! Lena!” Kara ran over to where Lena was waiting, sipping on a cup of cappuccino. Lena lowered her sunglasses and chuckled at the sight of Kara waving a stack of papers around at full sprint.

            “Ok, so get this, when I went—” Kara just noticed the sunglasses. “Where did you get that?”

            “I bought it.”

            “Lena!” Kara groaned, putting her face in her hands. “We’re supposed to be covert about this! You should ditch that before they can track your purchase.”

            “So, you’re saying I don’t look nice in these?” Lena teased, a smirk rising in the corner of her mouth.

            “No, no! You look nice! Beautiful, actually! I mean, not like that! Not that you aren’t beautiful, because you are! Breathtaking, even!” Lena broke out into a full smile. “I’m just going to stop talking now.” Kara squeaked out, her face a deep shade of crimson.

            “What did you find, Kara?” The heiress chuckled.

            “Ok, so I am definitely Catherine Kane. The assistant recognized and greeted me as Kane; Roland also greeted me as Kane and talked about a private jet I apparently was trying to buy—”

            “You know, I talked to someone on the phone—”

            “No, no, no. I’m definitely Kane. I just had a meeting as Kane and they all knew me as Kane. So, I’m Kane _and_ I’m Bourne. And this,” She spread out the papers she held in her hands for Lena to see. “This is all just jets. I got blueprints, cameras, and security details, and—"

            “Kara, breathe, darling.” Lena reached over the table and held the blonde’s hands. The touch had the desired effect as Kara seemed to have calmed down from her ramble.

            “Okay, breathe. I can do that.”

            “What I was trying to say was that I just finished talking to the city morgue. My French is a bit spotty, but they told me that they have Kane’s body.”

            Kara stared at Lena with a shocked expression. They have a lead. A solid, tangible lead.

            “And if you are Catherine Kane, Kara, then whose body do they have?”

* * *

            “Let’s see, Catherine Kane, Catherine Kane…” The wiry morgue assistant browsed through the week’s catalogue for their request. Lena shivered in her thin blouse, the chilly air conditioning in the basement floor did her no favors. The distinct smell of lab chemicals and the more nebulous stench of death lingered in the air, much to her discontent. Her shivering was equal parts due to the temperature and the overall creepy ambiance of the morgue. She should be used to it by now, given that she does (or did) work in a laboratory setting nearly every day of every week, but there was something always unsettling about it. Something too… perfectly sterile.

            The duo stood side by side, Kara with her hands on her hips, waiting rather impatiently and Lena with her arms crossed over her chest, more anxious than impatient.

            “…She’s in number one twenty-one.” The assistant looked up from the catalogue with a blank face, indicating that this was as far as he was interested in continuing this exchange. It was late, nearly nine thirty in the night. He knew he should have been home curled up in his sofa with a nice glass of wine, but his boss had called in last minute to cover for him while he went to run some errands. _Who the hell even has errands to run at 8 PM, anyways?_ He thought.

            Nevertheless, he was here, in this godforsaken dead-end job (according to him), being forced to ‘assist’ these two rude Americans who clearly believed they could demand his services at a moment’s notice, despite the fact he couldn’t possibly care any less about their inquiry. He had clocked in, so the only responsibility left entrusted to him was to clock out at the appropriate time, no more, no less.

            “I want to see the body.” The blonde ordered, an edge to her voice. Perhaps she would slap him for her own lack of patience, who knows. Never a good sign when someone rushes to a morgue in the middle of the night.

            He merely shrugged.

            “My boss could come back; I’m not sure if I’m supposed to do…” His eyes fell to the blonde’s hands which now were distinctly counting bills. Not just any bills, hundred-dollar bills. She shoved three in his face and held it out in front of him, expecting, just as impatient as the beginning, as if it was just a formality that she couldn’t wait to skip.

            The back of his mind whispered something along the lines of ‘workplace’ and ‘unethical,’ but he paid them no mind. With a sigh, he snatched the bills from her hand and led them to locker 121. The door was opened, and he swayed back to the balls of his feet, itching to leave the room.

            A new voice snapped his attention back to the locker. It was the brunette’s.

            “Wha—where’s the body?”

            “Is this it?” The blonde also asked.

            He quickly smoothed out his lab coat. This was something he wasn’t prepared for, and frankly, to damn tired to answer.

            Just then, the doors burst open, and his superior strode in, worry evident in his face. He pulled his assistant to the side and spoke in frantic whispers. Quiet, but audible to both Kara and Lena.

            “ _What’s going on?”_ The head medical examiner asked.

            “ _These girls have come to see the American, but the body… it disappeared.”_

            “ _They came this evening. Her brother came.”_

            The assistant moved to close the locker.

            “ _Well, he’s not in the register.”_

            After the door was locked and sealed, the older man turned to Kara and demanded,

            “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

            “Where’s the body was in the locker?”

            “Someone took it.”

            “Yeah, I know. I heard you.” Kara stepped a half foot forward. “Where did they take the body?”

            Scoffing, the medical examiner explained, “This is not a carnival, okay? If you want to come here and have a look, then you make an appointment. Those are the rules. Everyone signs in and out. This is a serious place, serious work! It’s just not somewhere you can just come in whenever you like!”

            Lena tried to step in, with as much Luthor vitriol she could muster.

            “Now, listen here you—”

            “No, you’re right,” Kara said, making her way towards the doors with great pace. “We need to sign in.”

            “Get out! Go!” He waved the two out.

            Lena hesitated for a second, unsure of Kara’s game.

            When they were back in the waiting area, they found Kara quickly rounding the desk of the medical examiner.

            “This is it right? Where I sign in?”

            “Hey, slow down!”

            Without any regard for his warnings, Kara grabbed the sign-in book and began flipping through it, searching for an open page.

            “You can’t just take whatever you’d like!”

            “No, no, no. We’re fine. We need to sign in!” Kara responded in kind.

            “Kara, wh—” Lena began, anxiously waiting for the next move.

            “Sweetie, why don’t you wait outside?” Kara asked pointedly, her gaze hardening with each passing second. Lena knew that look. She had seen it in the heat of battle in Kara’s apartment. This could turn ugly.

            The blonde found the page she was looking for and ripped the entire page out. She then pushed the book into the medical examiner’s chest with enough force for him to be knocked to the nearby wall.

            The duo quickly made themselves scarce, walking into the oddly deserted streets of late night Paris. Kara was inspecting the piece of paper she had acquired and walking briskly at the same time. Lena was barely keeping up.

            “Kara, what the hell happened back there? What are you looking for?”

            She pulled the brochures she had received from Alliance Security, turned to a specific page. She held to two pieces of paper side by side out in front of her for Lena to see as well.

            “Wombosi,” Kara explained, pointing to the printed name in the sign-in page. “Last night, went to the morgue to see Kane’s body. See?”

            “So?”

            “So look, he’s in the Alliance Security brochure! Same guy. This guy knows. He knows who I am.”

            As soon as she said that, a squadron of cop cars rushed past them, and Kara made a halfhearted attempt to hide their face with the papers she was holding. It was night; they seemed to be in a hurry. They would still be invisible.

            After the last of the cop cars blazed through the street, a black Mini Cooper raced to keep pace with the rest of the group. When it passed them, Kara was still busy thinking about Wombosi to catch the confusion and shock in the passenger’s seat. The car sped on without much problem, however.

            They kept walking through the streets with minimal talking between the two of them, both engulfed in the mystery of what this all could mean. Suddenly, Kara coughed up a lung, instantly worrying Lena. She knew Kara was in peak physical condition; she wasn’t sick for all she knew.

            “Hey are you okay?”

            “I’m—I’m fine. Just a tickle in the throat.”

            They strolled past an appliance store that was closed for the night, but still kept up its displays to advertise their products. The TVs were all synced to the same news channel reporting on some breaking news. The muffled voice of the anchor was still audible, and although Lena’s French wasn’t all that great, she did pick up some key words from the broadcast: Wombosi, police, and dead.

            Kara and Lena stopped in their tracks. They turned towards the TVs, inching towards the glass. The anchor went on to explain some initial details of the case, but Lena couldn’t understand much of it.

            “Kara, what is she saying?” She whispered.

            “She saying that three months before his death,” Her usual chipper voice was shaky. “Wombosi told police that a woman snuck on to his private jet while they were flying over the Pacific and tried to kill him.” Lena could see Kara’s illuminated face from the light produced by the TVs. Her eyes were glassy, nearly brimming with tears.

            “He said that he and his security team chased her through the jet and shot her multiple times before she fell out of the plane from the cargo hold.” Kara turned to face Lena. “She’s saying that I’m an assassin.”

            The blonde couldn’t hold her gaze for long and took off in the opposition direction. Lena was momentarily stunned before she shook herself clear and ran to catch up to Kara.

            “Kara, wait!” She attempted to grasp at her arm, but Kara shrugged her off and spun around to face a surprised Lena.

            “Get away from me!” There were streaks of tears running down her face. Her voice was breaking, and she was breathing hard in irregular patterns. “You can’t come any closer. _Please_.” She pleaded. “I could hurt you.”

            “You won’t hurt me, Kara.” The blonde averted her gaze, instead choosing to stare at the street.

            “How could you possibly know that?! I tried to kill Wombosi, I killed that man in the apartment! I murder people for a living, Lena!”

            “He attacked us first, remember?”

            Kara shook her head.

            “Doesn’t matter. They’re dead because of me.”

            “Kara, the people chasing _after_ us murdered Wombosi.” Lena tried to reason with her.

            “Yeah, people I work for!”

            “Kara…”

            The blonde sobbed, fresh tears rushing to the ground, staining her cheeks.

            “Why can’t you just leave? You’re not safe around me, can’t you see that?”

            Lena’s posture stiffened considerably, reverting back to her Luthor training. She crossed her arms and stood firm, her face resolute.

            “No.”

            Kara barked out a tearful laugh.

            “No?”

            “No. I’m not leaving.”

            The blonde tried to interject, but the heiress held up a hand.

            “I don’t care if you were an assassin three months ago. I don’t care about Catherine Kane, or whatever other aliases you might have used. I know Kara Bourne _now._ And Kara Bourne that I know is sweet,” Lena took a cautious step towards her. There was no effort to stop her.

            “Caring,” A step.

            “Brave,” Another.

            “And all in all, the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” They were within inches from one another. Lena could feel Kara’s breath on her lips and she had to ignore how her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest at the warmth.

            “So, don’t you dare try tell me that you are anything but because of your past. You are not defined by who you were, or what you’ve done.” Lena slowly reached out with her hands and wiped away the tears caught on Kara’s face. “All that matters is who you are now.” Lena let her arms fall to her sides.

            There was a beat of silence.

            Then, Kara launched forward and wrapped the youngest Luthor in a fierce hug.

            “Oh god, Lena.” She sobbed.

            “I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That... was a little more angst than I originally envisioned. Sorry, Kara.
> 
> Tumblr: window-raindrops


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